Falling
by Lone Songbird
Summary: -Ch. 41 New- With the passage of time, old wounds can heal. Two hearts find their destinies lie together, but they must learn to trust and to forgive. Courtship of Jareth and Sarah. Prequel to Meet Me At The Faire.
1. The Morning After

_Author's Note: "Falling" is based on the film alone; I have never read the novel. It does, therefore, break from the canon that appears to have been established (in some respects, I guess) in fanfiction: Sarah's parents (well, father and stepmother) have different names than normally used. No, I am not going to change it. I just thought I'd let you know._

_Checked for spelling, grammar, and continuity: April 12, 2011. ... Yes, this means a new chapter is in the works..._

_Cheers, and enjoy the story._

**"Falling"**

**Chapter One: The Morning After**

Sarah sat straight up in bed, blearily looking around her room. _Was it... It couldn't have..._ She saw nothing out of place; nothing had changed from the way it always looked. _Weird._ She glanced at the clock on her nightstand and glared at the red numbers reading '4:57'. Sighing heavily, she flipped over and buried her head under her pillow. Try as she might, she could not get back to sleep. As the sound of birds chirping made her unable to ignore the new day, she contemplated what that strange dream could possibly have meant.

"Sarah! Breakfast is ready!" Her father's voiced echoed up the stairs. With a groan, Sarah peeked at the clock again. 9:03. Wondering how the hours could have slid by so quickly, she suddenly realized that for getting so little sleep, she felt oddly refreshed. She noticed she was still wearing her clothes from the day before. Hopping out of bed, she quickly changed before galloping down to the kitchen.

"Good morning!" she said to her parents as she came into the kitchen before skidding to a halt by Toby's high chair. "Morning, squirt." Sarah ruffled his hair as she plunked down gracelessly in her chair.

She didn't miss the looks her father and stepmother exchanged. "What?" she asked them both as she helped herself to some toast. "Did you have a nice evening last night?"

There was a loud thump on the front door, signifying the morning paper had arrived courtesy of the paperboy with impeccable aim. He always ignored the fact that there was a paper box next to the mailbox, but no one complained since he never broke any windows. "Someone is perky today," said Lewis as he left the kitchen to get the paper. "Good morning is one thing. But 'squirt'? Rather cordial compared to the usual 'brat'." He added over his shoulder.

"Yeah, well..." Sarah trailed off. As the kitchen door swung shut, she turned to her stepmother. "Um, Alison... I um... uh..."

Alison sighed as she sat down at the table._ I am not up to another battle this early in the morning._ "What is it, Sarah?"

Sarah looked down at her plate, pushing her toast around with her knife. "I just wanted to um... to say that... well, I'm sorry."

Alison froze, her coffee cup halfway to her mouth. "Sorry? For what?"

"Well, for, you know, not really being very, um... understanding and, well, nice and... stuff." She put her knife down and put her hands in her lap, twisting them under the table. "I'll try to be better."

Lewis silently opened the door to the kitchen and met his wife's eyes over his daughter's head. He gave her a questioning look. She shrugged in return. "What brought this on, Sarah?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I just had this really weird dream last night. And..." Toby threw his spoon on the ground and she bent down to retrieve it. "Well, it's hard to explain."

Lewis sat down, setting the unopened paper on the corner or the table and looked at her. "Just try, honey."

Sarah sighed, looked back and forth at her parents who were looking back at her patiently, and then sighed again. "Ok then. After you left, I just threw myself on my bed. I must have been really tired because I fell asleep dressed. Anyway, in my dream, I could hear Toby crying a little through the door and when I looked at my wall, I saw that Lancelot was gone from his spot in my shelves. So I stormed out of my room..." She told the rest of her dream, how she wished Toby away. She told of the Goblin King who came and made her go through the Labyrinth, of all the strange friends she made on the way, how the whole world was everything she ever imagined, and how it all fell apart at the end. She told them how at the end, when she had come back, all her new friends came to her room for a party. "When they finally left, I cleaned my room and went to bed in my dream. The next thing I know, I am sitting in my bed, looking at the clock, and it is almost five."

Her parents were looking at her blankly. "I know it sounds like those games of pretend I always play, but it felt so _real_. Maybe because I always thought of it so much, I don't know. It was kind of exciting, but it scared me too. And when I woke up this morning, and it was all how it was last night before you left. I know it was just a dream..." She shrugged again as she ate her last bite of eggs. "Anyway, after I woke up I couldn't go back to sleep. I started thinking about what had happened in my dream, and how I acted in it, and how, in the end, I was taught a lesson. I guess it made me realize that I've been the brat, not Toby. So I thought that maybe I should apologize. I know it sounds really stupid, all because of a dream, but -"

"No, not stupid, Sarah." Alison cut her off. _A bit strange, but if this is what it takes for us to finally get along as a family..._ "Strange maybe, but not stupid." She reached across the table and stroked Sarah's hand, in a spontaneous motherly gesture that surprised them both. "Why don't you take Toby upstairs and get him cleaned up?" she said with a small smile.

Sarah took that to mean: 'Go upstairs, your father and I need to talk.' But somehow, it did not have the malicious bite that she always associated with it before. She smiled back and nodded. "Come on, Toby."

After she washed his hands and face, she took him to her room and put him on her bed. "Do you want to play with one of my toys?"

"Ah!" he said, pointing at the one with the gangly legs.

_Like those Fireys in my dream._ "Okie dokie." She put it, and a few others, on the bed in front of Toby, then sat down at her vanity, watching him in the reflection. "Just a dream." With an odd sense of deja vu, she pulled down some of the pictures of her mother from around her vanity mirror. "What was that line from that movie, Toby? The quote from the Bible that the one computer geek said to the other two who were arguing?" He gurgled in response and she grinned. "No, that wasn't it. Something like, 'When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man I put away childish things'. What do you think, Toby? Should probably take that advice, huh? Behave more like a grown up?" He held out a stuffed fox dressed like a knight, then laughed and hugged it closed. Sarah grinned at him again. She picked up her music box with the dancer inside. While looking at it, her other hand rested on her tattered copy of _The Labyrinth_. Holding both the book and the music box in one hand, she traced one finger gently over the embossed lettering. "Only I'm not quite ready to be a grown up yet, Toby. I still want to be a little girl." Her gaze fell on an oddly familiar ceramic statue. _I still want to believe it is all real._

"You don't have to be a grown up just yet, Sarah," came her father's voice from the doorway. Sarah looked up at him. He had one hand on the door frame and coughed awkwardly. "You're only fourteen. Maybe Allison and I have put too much pressure on you to do things our way all the time rather than hearing you out," he said as he walked in the room and gently took the music box out of her hands. Not knowing quite what to say or do, he wound it up. It began to softly play the lullaby that now had words of a romantic ballad being sung in Sarah's mind. "I don't want you to think you have to grow up quickly just because you had a dream that said you should. Let growing up take its time, slowly." He stroked her hair and she looked at him with a sad expression on her face. "But no matter what, you'll always be my little girl, Sarah."

Sarah threw herself out of her chair and into her father's arms as she started to cry silent, gut-wrenching sobs.

* * *

He had initially picked up the crystal because he was intrigued by this mere slip of a girl who the audacity to defy him. And dared to defeat him. Now, as Jareth watched the girl sob in her father's arms, he found himself unable to look away, horrified that he was the cause of such deeply felt anguish.

Words, powerful and haunting words, echoed through his mind: _"I know it was just a dream... But when I became a man, I must put away childish things... You're only fourteen... No matter what, you'll always be my little girl, Sarah... When I became a man... Put away childish... It was just a dream... You'll always be my little girl... It was just a dream... But it felt so real... Only fourteen... When I became a man..."_

His kind had often before played their games at the expense of Mortals without much of a second thought. The memory of events played out in truth was reduced to events of a dream in the minds of the Mortal participants. Sometimes it was all for fun, other times there were lessons to be learned. He had played the games himself, though admittedly never to such a highly involved extent. Certainly never leaving this sort of reaction behind. "What have I done?" he whispered to the image at his fingertips.

"Your Majesty!" The urgent voice of a Goblin pulled him back to the present.

Jareth sighed. "Yes?"

"We've rounded up most of the big rocks and put them in the Square. But now we can't get them out of the city, and..."

As the Goblin went on about the attempts at repairs, Jareth cast a final look at the crystal in his hand before covering it with the other and letting it fade away. "Put away childish things," he muttered, closing his eyes.

The Goblin stopped, confused. "Er, Your Majesty? What should we put away?"

Jareth smiled and shook his head. "Nothing. I was merely thinking aloud. Now, about those repairs," he paused and looked down at the Goblin who was waiting eagerly at his feet. "Sorry, what was your name again?"

"Squeaker, Your Majesty." He answered with a quick bow.

"Yes, Squeaker, about those repairs. I think it would be best if I go down with you and see what exactly the damage is, then we consider a plan, hm?" Jareth rose and strode toward the door.

Rousing himself out of his minor state of shock, the Goblin hurried after the Goblin King. "Yes, yes of course, Your Majesty!" He continued to hurry until he had passed Jareth and had disappeared down the corridor.

Jareth chuckled to himself before sobering as he was trailing behind one of his few truly loyal subjects. "Perhaps it is time to amend that number," he said aloud, "among other things." He took a deep breath and continued down the passage, putting lingering thoughts of a small, dark haired girl with sorrow filled eyes that tore at his soul into a safe, secret place in his mind.


	2. Small Steps Forward

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 2, 2011._

**Chapter Two: Small Steps Forward**

"Let the ball of light drift up to your neck, warming each muscle and melting all the tension away." In a low, mellow voice, Mr. Teadle guided his students through a relaxation exercise. The lights in the theatre were low and the fourteen students were scattered throughout. More than half of them were sprawled out on the stage, three in the aisles, one across four seats, and one was up in the light booth taking a nap. But that last was a TA and, as Mr. Teadle did not have any extra projects, naps were allowed now and again. He was well aware that it was likely some of the other students had fallen asleep as well. It happened every time he went through these exercises.

Mr. Teadle wound up the exercise in his normal manner. "When you are ready, come back to center stage and form a circle." He was glad the school board voted for longer class periods. Though it made things confusing for the new students, having alternating daily schedules of three courses per day was a fine exchange for having the students for nearly two consecutive hours. It meant he was able to work more things into the class routine, which was just as well considering warm-ups such as this one ended up taking at least half an hour before the class could move on to more productive activities.

Today's schedule, for example, held final presentations of monologues. The students had been working on them all semester. This was the third set of monologue presentations. The next level in the set of Drama courses would move on to Duologues and other, more complicated scene work. Even though he taught nearly every Drama course, Mr. Teadle was always sad to see this particular one end. The freshness brought in with each new bunch would slowly fade away as their eagerness wore away and they settled into the idea that to act meant to work. Indeed, that eagerness had already begun to dissipate. Two students dropped the course within the first week. The rest had become disillusioned with the hopes of an 'easy A' and settled into 'the grind'. All except one. This one had caught Mr. Teadle's eye and this one, he knew, would go far.

On the first day of class, Mr. Teadle had each student speak for three minutes about their aspirations for the course as a sort of semi-improvisational workshop. Of all the students enrolled, this one had stood out. Most of the others waxed poetic about their goals for becoming actors or increasing their abilities for public speaking. But not this one. Instead, she spoke of an experience she had once when she went to see a play years ago. She recalled for the class with vivid memory the excitement she felt, the thrill of being drawn in, the roller coaster of emotions felt when presented with the trials and triumphs of each character. She stood on stage, eyes alight and intensely capturing every body in the audience at the same time as being rapt in a far away moment. She spoke of the magic of great theatre, and in doing so wove a spell around all who listened. Mr. Treadle included. He knew then and there that she was destined for great things.

By the same token, he felt for some reason that those things would not be shown through characters on a stage. And, while that brought him some grief to know he had lost his protégé before he even had her, he felt privileged to have her under his tutelage. He knew, by some instinct he did not realize he had, that the things she would learn in these courses could very likely aid her in some way wherever her footsteps took her. And he would not fail her.

Sarah Williams had no idea what sorts of thoughts were playing in the mind of her teacher. If she had, she might have thought he was every bit as demented as the students at her school who did not take any Drama courses thought he was. Those who had, of course, knew better. As a Drama teacher, it was perfectly within his right to not realize he had mismatched socks, assuming he remembered to put them on, or to wear his obnoxious colored, knit vests inside out. No, she knew he was simply a bit eccentric, as every true creative genius should be.

She was a bit nervous for today's final presentation. She knew she would do just as well as the other students, but for some reason she always felt as though Mr. Treadle's expectations for her were different than for those of the others. She knew that to think such a thing was completely ridiculous. She had no reason to think so. He certainly treated her no differently. Agnes, one of her best friends, teased her that it was because she was developing a healthy, if rather over-inflated, sense of self-importance.

Regardless, Sarah knew that she just had to get it over with. The semester ended today, this being the last class and her last final. On top of that, it was her fifteenth birthday. Not all that momentous compared to sixteen, or eighteen, or twenty-one, she supposed. But a birthday was a birthday, and a party was a party, and she would be having her first one in years. The last birthday party she had was when her father was still married to her real mother, and a clown gave away goodie bags containing coloring books. This one would be different.

First, however, she would have to perform her monologue.

"Sarah Williams." Mr. Treadle called her name. Thanks to alphabetical order, she usually went last and today was no exception. She steadily made her way up the steps to the stage. "Whenever you are ready, Sarah, begin."

"Yes, sir." Sarah closed her eyes for a moment to center herself, then took a deep breath, and after introducing the text, she launched into the lines.

_"Is this the love thou bear'st Horatio? Is this the kindness that thou counterfeits? Are these the fruits of thine incessant tears? Hieronimo, are these thy passions, Thy protestations and thy deep laments, That thou wert wont to weary men withal? O unkind father! O deceitful world! With what excuses canst thou show thyself From this dishonour and the hate of men, Thus to neglect the loss and life of him Whom both my letters and thine own belief Assures thee to be causeless slaughteréd? Hieronimo, for shame, Hieronimo, Be not a history to aftertimes Of such ingratitude unto thy son: Unhappy mothers of such children then - But monstrous fathers to forget so soon The death of those whom they with care and cost Have tendered so, thus careless should be lost. Myself, a stranger in respect of thee, So loved his life, as still I wish their deaths. Nor shall his death be unrevenged by me, Although I bear it out for fashion's sake: For here I swear, in sight of heaven and earth, Shouldst thou neglect the love thou shouldst retain, And give it over and devise no more, Myself should send their hateful souls to hell That wrought his downfall with extremest death."_++

Jareth raised an eyebrow at her choice of text. It seemed a rather brutal and harsh selection, though her delivery was impeccable for someone of her age and inexperience. He only half listened to the comments her teacher was giving to the class, something about the difficulties of applying Stanislavski's methods to Elizabethan drama due to their contextual relationship. Jareth did not know what the man was talking about, and frankly he did not care.

Instead, he studied the girl he had met face to face only a few months before. He had been sitting in his throne room relaxing and, as he often did, began spinning some crystals haphazardly in one hand. Without thinking about it, he called up her image within them, curious as to what she was doing. He had not intended to do so, it simply happened, and now he found he did not want to look away.

A bell rang and she and the other students jumped out of their seats and ran toward the door. A few people yelled goodbye to her, and a redheaded girl snagged her outside the door and whispered something in her ear. Whatever was said caused her to stop and, looking scandalized, she gently smacked her friend on the shoulder. Her friend laughed, grabbed her arm, and dragged Sarah at a half-run down the corridor.

* * *

Jareth shook himself out of his reverie and made the crystals vanish with a flick of his wrist. He really had better things to do than spy on a teenage Mortal. Today, for example, he planned to go over the plan of taxes and tributes, something he had never bothered with before. It had been set up years before he came took the throne. In truth, he had not really been aware that there _was_ a plan until he was dealing with the aftermath of the destruction of the Goblin City.

It had been months and there were still things to be done, repairs to be made, improvements to be scheduled. Things that should have been done long ago but he never bothered about before. As he muddled through it all, he realized how little he actually knew about running a kingdom properly. For some reason, all these centuries, he just assumed it could take care of itself. To an extent, it did. But there were many details in dire need of revision. It was a strenuous process, learning it all while appearing to already know it all. He was not sure if he could afford to make many mistakes, so he endeavored to make sure none were made. And he was on his own with it for the most part. Jareth was exhausted, but there was little time for rest or solitude as much still needed to be done. He had not even begun to take the damage done to the Castle into account. However, he had to ensure the well being of his people first. With that in mind, Jareth straightened his shoulders and went off to his study.

* * *

++Text taken from Act IV, Scene i, Lines 1-28 of: Kyd, Thomas (1998) Cordner, Michael (ed.) _The Spanish Tragedy_, Oxford: Oxford University Press.


	3. Looks Defined

_Author's Note: Many moons ago (read: many reviews ago), someone complained that this chapter lacked continuity with reality, that some of the films I reference are dated far too contemporary for the "time frame" of the original _Labyrinth_ film. Fooey, says I. This is fanfiction and, while I admit to taking some things more seriously, real time is not one of those things I choose to focus on. And if that destroys your experience and enjoyment of this story, then it is probably not the story for you. And you probably have missed the point that I am trying to get across with this chapter, anyway. Sorry if I've harshed your mellow with my tone here, but there it is. … Clearly, that criticism is one of those things I took more seriously. And persoanlly. ;D_

___Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 2, 2011._  


**Chapter Three: Looks Defined**

"Oh, come on, Aggie. _Every_ romantic movie has a look to it." The only male in the light booth suddenly found himself on the receiving end of two exasperated, and female, glares.

"We are not talking about styles of film within a genre." Agnes whispered over the channel from where she sat at the sound board. "We are talking about Looks."

"Who's good looking? Oh, and Nate on headset." The voice of a second young man came over. "Sarah said she'll be coming on as soon as she finishes chewing out her fellow Seniors for screwing around with the prop table since they should know better."

"They're talking about romance movies, Nate," Gus informed him over several sounds of indignation.

"Oh right. I'll tell you who's good looking in those. Meg Ryan."

"Everyone thinks she's good looking. Be original. Courtney Cox Arquette."

"She's original? Ashley Judd."

"Ingrid Bergman."

"I thought he was male."

"No, that's Ingmar. I'm talking about Ingrid Bergman. The chick in _Casablanca_."

"Ah, good call. What about -"

"Before you continue with this fascinating litany," Agnes interrupted, "allow me to clarify for you. We are _not _talking about 'looks and feels' of movies, nor are we talking about the supposed good looks of actresses."

"Female actors," came the voice of a girl with bleach-blonde hair, a pair of safety goggles on her head, and a wrench sticking out of her back pocket from where she stood behind a spotlight.

"Same difference, Carrie." Agnes continued over her friend's snort. "What we _are_ talking about, however, are Looks. Note the audible capital 'L'." Gus and Nate responded with dubious murmurs.

"Take your example of _Casablanca_," said a third girl, Louella, from her vantage point on a ladder behind the other spot. "Classic Look: Rick telling Ilsa 'We'll always have Paris'."

"Or the scene from the extended version of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ when the Fellowship leaves and Aragorn holds back to give a Look to Arwen," suggested Carrie.

"You three are making this up," said Gus.

"We are not!" Louella nearly fell off the ladder. "You ask any girl what a Look is and she'll come up with one." The other two girls seconded that statement with whispered fervor.

Gus laughed quietly. "Prove it."

The two girls with him in the light booth saw him gesture to the slight figure settling behind the Stage Manager's desk. She fiddled with something then the others heard her low voice. "Sarah on headset. Warning, five minutes to Curtain."

After the customary response of "Thank you, five," from each crew member, Louella spoke up. "Hey Sarah, I need you to prove something for me."

"What? Prove what? What did I do?" she asked.

"Can you, off the top of your head, name a Look?" Louella asked with a grin.

"Oh sure. Mr. Darcy's Look." The other three girls heaved large sighs, breathily repeated "Mr. Darcy." Even in the dim light, Gus could make out Louella and Carrie's dreamy expressions.

"That's not just _a _Look, Sarah. That's _The_ Look," intoned Carrie.

"What? Who?" asked Gus.

"Duh. Elizabeth Bennet rescues Georgiana from a potentially embarrassing situation after dinner at Pemberley," began Carrie.

Louella picked up the explanation. "In his gratitude, compounded by the fact that he is _completely_ in love with Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy gazes at her with profound thanks and devotion."

"This would be at the beginning of the fifth episode in the six part series of _Pride and Prejudice_ by the BBC and A&E, by the way," finished Agnes. The three sighed again.

There was a moment of silence. "_How_ did you know that?" asked Nate.

Sarah's grin could be heard in her response. "Every female knows what a Look is. Especially if she's seen _P and P_." The two boys groaned and she grinned even more.

All of them heard Mr. Teadle's interrupting cough. "Are we teching for your Senior play, people, or are we having a gossip session? Let's get the show on the road," he told them good-naturedly. One of the mysteries of their Drama program was how he linked into the system with an unidentified headset. But it was tradition for him to come on just before the house lights were to go down and give the go-ahead on opening night.

"Aye-aye, Captain," Sarah said. She reached over and pushed a button on her panel. "Places, for Curtain. Break your legs." In short order, the house lights dimmed, the audience settled, and the show was under way.

* * *

As Jareth leaned against the outer wall of the Castle, he chuckled at the antics from last night.

He had just returned from a rather long meeting with some of the Goblins he put in charge of reconstructing part of the Castle. It was, admittedly, something he could have done by magic. But he noticed that his people were often gratified to be given such responsibilities as that, feeling trusted, appreciated, and important. So he let them get on with it for the most part, touching base with them now and again to see how things were progressing. It was slow going, for he insisted that it all be perfect and the control the Goblins needed to make it so was, while coming easier with practice, difficult for them to manage at times. The meeting went on longer than planned at the end of an already long day, so he retired for the night rather than have the cook stoke up the fires so late in the day.

That was another change over the past few years. He now had servants. Kitchen staff, footmen, messengers, all manner and skill. It took time to get used to, but he rather liked it that there were no more Goblins lolling about the Castle lazily. One drawback of this, if it could be called a drawback, was he found that he needed another way of venting his frustration besides kicking and tossing Goblins around. However, as he was actually taking active part in running the kingdom, he also found that he was rarely bored. And boredom, he discovered, was often the source of his previous level of frustration.

Last night, however, he was frustrated for no reason. He put it off as being over-tired, and planned to get to bed. Instead, he found himself once again spinning crystals in one hand and bringing forth an image within them.

It had been nearly three and a half years since he last looked in on her. She was in the same theatre, though this time it was full of people and dark. He realized that there was a play going on, though she was hiding in the shadows behind a lectern or a desk of some sort and not acting. Remembering what he had seen her accomplish that day in her Drama class, he wondered at first why she was speaking in the dark as opposed to lit up on the stage. It did not take long to realize that she was actually running the show that night. She spent the evening alternating between having her nose buried in a manuscript in front of her and glancing at the stage, at the same time as giving instructions to people running other pieces of equipment. During lulls between instructions, she partook in various little conversations, which she frequently put stops to when they sounded like they would either get too out of hand or when it was time for more of the things she called 'cues'. But those conversations were quite amusing.

In some ways, this was not the Sarah he remembered. In other ways, he realized she was on her way to becoming the woman he had seen in the eyes of a young girl nearly four years ago. It was almost unnerving, but he got a strange sense of satisfaction from what he saw. He could not explain it to himself and that bothered him slightly. Jareth shook his head and resolved to put it, and her, from his mind. At least for now.

Bringing himself back to the present, Jareth surveyed the clearing before him. It used to be, he surmised, a garden, though it was quite run down. Brown and dried branches rising from the ground indicated hedges of some sort. Along the wall and scattered throughout were more, this time with vicious looking thorns. What once might have been orderly rows of flowerbeds and a small lawn area was now overrun with weeds. There were broken stones peeking through on the ground, which were probably a path through the flowerbeds. There were clumps of trees, gnarled, crumbling, and bearing no leaves. He knew the area stretched beyond his vision, which was blocked by the dead trees. Jareth wondered who originally planted the expanse, when it became overrun and wild, and when it finally succumbed to neglect and disarray.

"Yer Majesty?" A familiar voice interrupted his musings. Without moving from the wall, he turned his head and regarded the small figure standing hesitantly off to one side and wringing his hands. "Er, Yer Majesty, I got a message that you wanted to see me. So here I came, right away, just as you asked." The little man looked around nervously, feebly attempting to hide that nervousness. He was dressed much as before, in earth tones, a white linen shirt, patched leather trousers and vest. A little bag with bits attached to hit hung from his belt and, unsurprisingly, a plastic bracelet adorned his wrist.

Jareth smiled wryly. _Some things never change._ "Ah yes," he said aloud. "I have been waiting for you, Hoggle."

"Er, it's Hoggle, Yer Majesty," said the dwarf automatically before realizing that was exactly what Jareth had said. He seemed to grow even more uncomfortable.

"Yes." Jareth's smile widened. He pushed himself off the wall and strode into the middle of a patch of weeds next to one of the thorned bushes. Reaching out, he carefully snapped off a dried twig and called over his shoulder. "Come here, Hoggle. I have a task for you."

Hoggle hurried over, not sure if it was the wisest thing to be near the Goblin King, but knowing that Jareth could just as easily appear next to him with a blink of an eye. As he stood there waiting for the cryptic and vengeful commands he was sure would come, he watched Jareth twirl the twig. In the silence, he wondered why he had come to Jareth's attention after almost four years of being ignored. He also contemplated the outrageous rumors he had been hearing about a change in Jareth's character. Hoggle wondered if the king had gone mad, something that seemed to be supported by Jareth's distracted study of a twig from a dead rose bush.

When Jareth placed his hand on Hoggle's shoulder, the dwarf nearly jumped out of his skin. Jareth tried to refrain from showing too much amusement at Hoggle's obvious discomfort. He turned them both around to face the small clearing, dead bush at their backs. "I believe this used to be a garden. What do you think, Hoggle?"

_This is a very strange turn of conversation_, thought Hoggle. _I hope it ain't a sign..._ "Er, well Yer Majesty, I would have to agree with you on that one."

Jareth gave Hoggle's shoulder a pat. "Good. Since you know enough to tell that, is it too much to presume you have some skill _as_ a gardener?"

"Why, yes Yer Majesty. I've been tending the plants at the entrance to the Labyrinth for years now. They ain't really my choice of plants, but -"

"That's fine, Hoggle," Jareth interrupted. "I would like this garden to be returned to a living environment. Take a look around here and see if you can come up with any ideas for what to do then come see me in my study. One of the servants will show you the way." He gave Hoggle another pat then started back toward the Castle. "Good luck. It should be quite the project. It will probably take a few years just to get it up to par, and then it will be a full time job to keep it running. But first, just see if you can make it look like a garden."

Hoggle stared after him, dumbfounded. By the time he was able to speak to voice his thanks, Jareth had walked out of sight. "Well," he said to himself, "strange turn of conversation leads to strange requests. And him walking away as he did. More is going on here than as I can figure. But I ain't going to be turning an offer such as this away. Heh. I wonder what prompted it all." He continued muttering on about it as he turned to the plants.

Around the corner, Jareth listened to Hoggle's monologue. _What prompted it all, indeed. If he only knew..._


	4. Leaps and Bounds

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 2, 2011._

**Chapter Four: Leaps and Bounds**

It was opening night of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ at the University. The design concept of the play was fairly simple. The Athenians donned togas with various states of decoration depending on rank, while the Fairies wore flowing satin with flower garlands. The set was simple, a few hand-painted backdrops, potted plants to simulate the forest, other necessary set pieces brought in as required. Exploring the Elizabethan casting style, each actor played more than one role with the traditional obvious paralleling between Theseus and Oberon, Hippolyta and Titania. However, they did not opt for an all male cast.

Sarah was nervous. She was due to graduate with a BA in Drama and History in four months. Because she decided to pursue a double major, and had to work almost full time to support herself, it had taken her a fifth year to complete all her studies. Her father and stepmother did not approve of her choice in academic field, though in all fairness Allison did try to convince her father to help with _some_ of her fees. She finally succeeded for Sarah's last year, and that was greatly appreciated. It was a measure of how far they had come in their relationship over the past nine years. Things were still rocky at times, their personalities and interests were too different to expect otherwise. But at some point they had reached a level of deep friendship.

All this, however, was not the cause of her nerves. Somehow, she had gone through nearly all her studies majoring in Drama without having a stage role that encompassed more than a few lines. She normally was so busy all she could dedicate herself to were different technical roles. Nothing in the way of design beyond assisting the chief designers with a few scenes here or there. Rather, she built sets, ran props, worked the light and sound boards, sewed bits of costumes, and operated the spotlight once. This year, because her parents were helping her financially, Sarah did not have to work as much. That meant she could spend most of her time writing her Senior thesis and being more heavily involved in the actual productions. So far, she reprised her role from High School as Stage Manager for both the fall and winter shows, and for the spring show she landed one of the female leads.

Sarah sat in the dressing room in front of a mirror. She knew all her lines and she could remember all her cues, but she had this strange fear that she would forget her very last line and ruin the show. She thought back to when she was younger and would run _The Labyrinth_ in her mind constantly. She always had trouble remembering the final, pivotal line. In truth, she had not thought about that particular problem since she had that dream when she was fourteen. The dream, on the other hand, she often recalled.

Sarah had been in a few relationships in the past nine years, though nothing particularly serious. For some reason she always compared them to Jareth, the Goblin King from her dream. Her best friend from High School, Agnes, told her once that it was like comparing new boyfriends to your first serious one. Except instead of a first boyfriend, it was an ideal boyfriend, a dream boyfriend. Agnes didn't know she was that close to, and in some ways that far from, the truth.

Her latest relationship had lasted just over two and a half years. Sarah had finally broken it off just before rehearsals for _Midsummer_ began. When she began devoting her time to finishing her studies at the beginning of this school year, she realized that it had only lasted as long as it did because she had been trying to hang on, trying to be as committed as he wanted her to be for his sake alone. It was not that she did not care for him, but it had never been the way he thought it was. She had been holding on for two and a half years to the initial attraction that had faded away within a month and not to be replaced by something stronger and more lasting.

Amazingly, she had gone through the entire thing and come to that conclusion without once comparing him to Jareth. Though Sarah was not quite sure what that meant, she figured it did not really matter. She knew Agnes, who had accidentally minored in Psychology after taking all the required courses out of sheer curiosity, would say it meant that she was moving on to a more mature idea of what an 'ideal' partner would be. For some reason, that did not seem quite it, but she could not place the real reason behind it.

The unfortunate part of the whole situation was that Sammuel did not seem to understand that it was over. He kept sending her gifts: flowers, candy, singing telegrams, and the like, and all with notes of apology begging her to change her mind. Even though she sent everything back, with notes of her own explaining things, he did not understand that it was nothing he did or did not do and she was not coming back to him. The gifts had been coming every day at first, but as the six weeks of rehearsal came to a close the frequency had died down. Sarah figured he had finally gotten the point.

All thoughts such as these were farthest from her mind as she made minor adjustments to her crown of laurels, put the finishing touches on her makeup, and muttered her last lines over and over again under her breath. The other cast members were making small talk in an attempt at creating a calming atmosphere. They all had more stage experience and had dealt with the nerves of new actors before, but they could not understand how hers had risen to such a frenzied peak. She had been on stage before, and, though she had not had a lead role in many years, she was one of the most talented students in the department.

Everyone knew the story of one time when she had a bit role in a play consisting of no more than five minutes of stage time her Freshman year. For some reason, she received more applause than the leading actress. That actress, who was a Senior, had threatened to walk out of the production after opening night because of 'that presumptuous, under-talented child'. She only stayed because the director had threatened to replace her with Sarah, who would have played the role better had she gone on cold with the script in hand. There were other incidents over the years and Sarah handled them all with a calm collectedness to be envied. She was not one to be taken by nerves so no one knew how to calm her down.

Sarah took no notice of any of their actions; she was not even aware they were still in the room. Instead she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, picturing a ball of light at her toes that would rise and take all the tension away. She knew that, nervous though she was, she had to relax or she _would_ ruin the show. Just as the ball reached her ankles, there was a knock at the door. Sarah looked up to find Agnes, who was the Stage Manager for the show, closing the door. "Shouldn't you be on headset and behind the box?" she asked, surprised.

Agnes grinned, "Probably, but this came for you and I thought it would be best if I delivered it myself." She held out a long, thin, snowy white box adorned with a deep red silk ribbon tied into a bow, the ends streaming down. The conversation in the dressing room slowed down as everyone tried to listen in without appearing interested.

"Oh, no," Sarah groaned. "I do not need this tonight. Take it back. When will he get it through that thick skull of his that - Ugh. Just take it back. And tell him tha-"

"It wasn't from Sammuel," Agnes interrupted, her grin getting wider.

Sarah blinked a few times. "What?"

"It wasn't from Sammuel," Agnes repeated. "I didn't think it was, since I saw him this morning looking properly chagrined. He said, by the way, that he hopes the show goes well but he isn't going to come see it because he realized he should probably be giving you space. However, knowing his history, I checked to see who it is from. I actually had to threaten the delivery man into telling me anything, he was most secretive, but he finally told me what the guy looked like. Whoever it was, he didn't look like Sammuel. It isn't from your father either; I don't recognize the description. I think you have a secret admirer. Now, stop gaping like a fish, take the damn box, read the card, and _open it._ As your best friend, I have the right to know what is inside!"

Sarah blinked again and stared at the box. She slowly reached for it then turned and, pushing her makeup kit aside, she set it on the stand. By this time, it was silent in the dressing room. Everyone was leaning over slightly and peering over to see what the box contained, though it was obviously a flower box. Sarah pulled the card out from beneath the bow. Her name was inscribed on the envelope in the most elegant handwriting she had ever seen.

"Who writes like this?" she wondered aloud as she opened the card. "Strong and powerful yet graceful and beautiful at the same time. It is like the writing exudes confidence and... huh, arrogance as much as an actual person."

"I never should have gotten you that book on analyzing handwriting for your birthday. Get on with it, already," Agnes poked Sarah's shoulder.

"Alright, alright. It reads: 'Tonight the stars in heaven shall seem dim compared to the light emanating from the star within you'. And it is signed 'Your most devoted admirer'. Wow." She tucked the card in the frame of her mirror then traced her name on the card. Something about it seemed so familiar, but she knew she had never seen this handwriting before.

"_Sar-ah_," Agnes whined impatiently, "open the box!"

"What?" Sarah looked up, then blushed slightly. "Oh, right." She pulled the streaming ends of the ribbon and the bow easily untied itself. The ribbon pooled into her lap as she lifted the lid off the box. Another note sat atop what was inside. "This one reads: 'Flowers grown from this earth are doomed to fade. Though this gift cannot compare, it shall forever stand testament to your lasting ethereal beauty'." She met Agnes' eye through the reflection. Her friend stood slack jawed and wide-eyed, but motioned her to take out the mysterious gift. Returning her attention to the box, Sarah gingerly peeled away layers of the most delicate white silk she had ever felt. When she finally arrived at what lay within, she gasped.

"Well?" pressed Agnes. "What is it?" Everyone else in the room, long since giving up the pretense of disinterest, seconded that question.

As Sarah picked it up, she became vaguely aware that all her nervousness was gone. Suddenly calm and relaxed, she carefully lifted the single long stemmed rose out of the box. As it parted from its silky cushion, the translucent colors seemed to fade ever so slightly. Then, as she held it up, the light caught every curve and every angle, from the veins of the leaves to the miniscule droplets of dew. Later, everyone present swore that the rose, crafted from the finest crystal any of them had ever seen, began to glow.

"Sarah," whispered Agnes with awe, "who _is_ your admirer?"

"I'm not sure, Aggie," she replied in the same tone. "I'm really not sure."


	5. Those Midsummer Nights

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 2, 2011_.

**Chapter Five: Those Midsummer Nights**

It became ritual.

Before every performance, Agnes would come to the dressing room with another box containing another rose. With the exception of the first night, however, there were no more notes beyond ones designating Sarah as the recipient. In addition, each night during bows, a bouquet of flowers would be presented to Sarah. Each one was different. Each bouquet was bound with a red silk ribbon. Each ribbon had a small card tucked inside bearing Sarah's name and nothing else. All the cards and notes were written in the same hand. Still, there were no more clues as to who the mysterious gift giver could be, not that any of the previous clues gave her any idea. She _did_ have the feeling that something was familiar about it, though she could not pinpoint what that something was.

Finally, closing night arrived. There had been three weeks worth of performances, with shows Wednesday through Saturday. Agnes had just left the dressing room after delivering the twelfth and, presumably, final crystal rose. They were being held in one of the vases provided backstage for flowers, cheap plastic things and ill suited for the exquisitely crafted flowers, but Sarah did not mind. She was mildly worried that the other actors would grow jealous or tired of the flowers, but they never did. They were more curious as to who the mystery man could be.

One of them, the actor playing Puck/Philostrate, had hinted after the third night that it could be some psychotic stalker. Sarah knew instinctually that this wasn't the case, though she did not bother trying to explain that to Kevin. She did not know anyone who was more paranoid about conspiracy theories. Plus, Theseus/Oberon, played by an older student named George who was minoring in Logic, figured that if it were a psychotic stalker he would not bother with crystal roses unless he was an extremely wealthy psychotic stalker, in which case Sarah should go for him anyway. No one could quite figure out how that conclusion could be reached logically, but they did not bother arguing with him. They had ruled out any of the students at the University, but this did not bring them any closer to discovery. Sarah had a feeling that they never would figure it out before they were told who it could be.

Even had she not received the flowers, Sarah would have been just as disappointed that tonight was the last performance. Though she could not see herself becoming a professional actor, she had heartily enjoyed herself and loved being on stage. She finished putting on her makeup for the last time as Hippolyta/Titania then went into the wings for places. She was, truthfully, a few minutes early, but she wanted a few moments to center herself in solitude. All too quickly, the curtain went up and she was walking out on stage.

_"Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour"_ began George as Theseus,_ "Draws on apace. Four happy days bring in Another moon - but O, methinks how slow This old moon wanes! She lingers my desires, Like to a stepdame or a dowager Long withering out a young man's revenue."_

_"Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;"_ Sarah's Hippolyta replied,_ Four nights will quickly dream away the time: And then the moon - like to a silver bow New-bent in heaven - shall behold the night Of our solemnities."_++

So the play continued, and Sarah held strong.

_"These are the forgeries of jealousy; And never since the middle summer's spring Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, By pavéd fountain or by rushy brook, Or in the beachéd margent of the sea To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport."++_

She wooed the audience as she wooed Bottom as the Ass, she gained their pity at being such a victim to Oberon's devices, she charmed them as Hippolyta charmed Theseus, and when she bid Oberon:

_"First reherase your song by rote, To each word a warbling note. Hand in hand with fairy grace Will we sing and bless this place."_++

So, too, the audience felt privileged at such a gift.

As with the past eleven nights, when they came forward for their bows, Sarah was once more presented with a bouquet. This time, there were twelve roses, pure white petals starkly contrasting the ribbon binding them. Tiny droplets of water sprinkled the petals. From nowhere came the thought that each individual flower had a mirror image in crystal, and somehow she knew that thought to be truth.

Sarah had brought a basket to take the flowers home with her. She had kept the white silk and used it to line the basket before gently wrapping each crystal rose and placing it inside. She was the last to leave the dressing room, though she was not far behind the rest of the cast. With her bag slung over her shoulder, bouquet in the crook of her arm, and basket clutched in hand, she went out to find her family. Her parents were waiting in the lobby talking to Agnes' parents. Toby stood next to them, clutching a handful of flowers she recognized as having been picked from Alison's flowerbeds.

She walked over to the group. "Hi. You made it," she said, knowing that the smile on her face probably bordered ridiculous.

"Of course we did, sweetheart," said Lewis, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek. "You were amazing up there."

Alison swept her stepdaughter into a big hug. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered.

"My turn, my turn!" Toby bounced up and down. Ten years old, he had yet to reach the stage where it was not cool to hug one's big sister. He handed her the flowers, held together with scotch tape and wrapped with a damp paper towel to keep them from drying out. He noticed the roses she had set next to the basket and his face fell. "I guess they're not as nice as those."

Sarah ruffled his hair, "They're just as beautiful as those," she told him. "Even more so because they came from my little brother." That seemed to satisfy him. Sarah gently tucked the tiny bouquet in the basket.

Alison noticed the roses as well. "And who gave you those? I saw you were presented with flowers on stage. All the other cast members received their flowers out here."

Sarah blushed. "Actually, I'm not sure who they are from. A secret admirer, I guess. I kind of hoped he would have introduced himself one of these nights, but he hasn't." She shrugged. "Maybe some other time, I guess."

Alison furrowed her brow at that answer, as well as the way Sarah wouldn't meet her in the eye. She wondered what more was involved with this admirer, and how many other bouquets of roses Sarah was given to prompt a wish to meet him 'one of these nights'. She was not given much time to think about it as Lewis asked her which restaurant they were going to. He couldn't remember the name. They, as well as Agnes and her family, were going to have a late dinner together in celebration. Traditionally, the cast and crew were supposed to help out with striking the set the day after closing night and they would all get together for the cast party then, which meant they were free for celebrating with family members the night of closing. Agnes came out shortly after that, plans were finalized, directions were given, and they went off to their cars.

* * *

Jareth chuckled softly to himself, wondering what the High Queen would think of him beginning to court a young, Mortal woman at a play in which she presented a most uncharacteristic Titania. Though he had watched every performance, this was the first night he was actually in attendance. He ventured Aboveground once before to arrange for delivery of his gifts, but could not spare more time away. Truth be told, he had likely been away too long this evening. It was necessary, however, or so he told himself. He left specific instructions behind should anything out of the ordinary happen and he hoped that his absence would not be noticed too widely, that no one would be watching so closely.

After waiting until the rest of the audience left the theatre, he followed them out into the foyer to await Sarah's exit. He knew that this was where she would exit the building, and he knew she would likely be the last to leave. She tended to linger behind after any play she was involved in, as though saying goodbye to the experience each time. He stood against a wall in the shadows and waited.

When she did come out, it was sooner than normal. He soon realized why as he saw her go over to a small group of people. The recognition of some of them as her family was almost instantaneous, though he could not get over how much her brother had grown. Though he did watch Sarah from time to time, and with increasing frequency over the past five years, he had not once looked in on the boy.

He shamelessly eavesdropped on their conversation, taking in the way she gently handled this night's bouquet and a basket filled with familiar white silk. His level of satisfaction waned, however, when she heard her comparison of Toby's flowers to his. It was foolish, and he knew it, but he could not control a tiny stab of jealousy at her words. He struggled momentarily to regain control, and because of that he almost missed her unconscious smoothing of the silk in an affectionate and tender gesture as she tucked the bouquet from her brother inside the basket.

His suspicion of what lay inside was confirmed, as well as his confidence restored. Though, this time, he reminded himself to not be too self satisfied when things did and disappointed when things did not go according to his carefully structured plan. This was not some frivolous and predictable girl. No, his Sarah was spontaneous and passionate with a depth of character he rarely saw in anyone. That last thought took him by surprise. _His_ Sarah. He had not realized he had already become that possessive of her. Though he knew it was to be expected, he did not think it would happen _before_ she openly accepted his suit.

That thought gave him pause. The jealousy and possessiveness of the Fae were legendary among his people. More wars had been started because of those two things than by any other cause. It was not simple coveting of objects, however. It always related to the heart's deepest desire and dearest treasure. There were, of course, the few cases where actual infidelity had caused difficulty. Those were few and far between. Instead, it was much more likely that innocent events lit the spark that soon blazed into an uncontrollable inferno.

Jareth knew that if he reacted this strongly to a gift from Sarah's _brother_, he was definitely more closely bound to her than he realized. He would have to go more slowly. Should she reject him, it could drive him to do any number of things. And, if he was to be honest with himself, he had to admit that there was the chance she _would_ in fact reject him. It was within her right; he had put her through a terrible ordeal, made her think it was all a dream, and caused heartache that lasted for many years. He knew it did. He had seen it in her eyes. He had felt it in her spirit.

Again, he was caught by that thought. He had felt it. He should not have been able to feel anything of that sort. Not yet, anyway. He asked himself the same question he had asked many times before, _What have I done?_ Jareth knew he had to leave, now. Before she realized he was there.

That was when he noticed that she was alone in the foyer. She called out to her friend, the one with the red hair who had been around for years as well, saying she did not need help but would see her at the restaurant. Jareth slowly pulled back further into the shadows.

As Sarah bent to gather her things, a sudden movement caught her eye. She quickly looked up, and froze. _It's him,_ she thought, her mind racing. _But it can't be. But it _is_!_ Their eyes met, their gazes locked, and she slowly stood up. He looked different from what she remembered, but that was mainly because he was wearing normal clothing. _It must have been to blend in. But why is he here, anyway?_

When Sarah's eyes looked into his, Jareth froze. He meant to leave quickly and before she saw him, but now that she had he lost the ability to act. Her expressions were an open book. First shock, then horror, amusement, joy, and finally confusion. He knew she wanted to know why he was there, was trying to come up with a logical reason for him being there in the flesh or convince herself it was just her imagination. Suddenly, he saw her eyes widen as she drew her own conclusions. She looked down at the basket. As soon as she broke eye contact, he quickly fled the scene, vanishing Underground without fuss, flare, or turning into owl form.

* * *

Sarah slowly looked down at the basket and stared at it for a long moment. She felt as though her thoughts were working in slow motion, but it all clicked. The _crystal_ roses. The handwriting showing power, arrogance, yet grace and beauty. The sensation that she knew so much about someone who told her so little. And with all that came a single thought: _It was real._

Not sure what to think about that she looked up just in time to see him vanish. There were no lights flashing, no glitter sparkling, no owl flying around the room. "No! Wait!" Though it made no sense, she ran over to the wall where he stood as though that would somehow bring him back. But there was nothing. No hole in the wall, no sudden transportation to the Labyrinth. Nothing. Disappointed and... something else, she could not place what, Sarah sighed.

The next thing she knew, she was furious. She slammed both hands against the wall and fairly growled in frustration. Her eyes brimmed with tears, so she shut them, refusing to cry. She hung her head, leaned it against the wall. Taking some calming breaths, she blinked her eyes quickly. That was when she saw it. It was just lying there, unannounced. She wondered if he even knew he left it behind.

Sarah stood there for a full minute, not moving. She would not have noticed if she had stopped breathing, she simply stared at it. Slowly, she reached down and picked it up. Twirling it in her fingers she walked back to her things and picked them up. Before she pushed open the front doors and walked into the evening air, Sarah tucked a snowy white owl feather into the basket beside Toby's flowers and the silk wrapped roses she now knew were gifts from Jareth, the Goblin King.

* * *

++Text taken from: Shakespeare, W. (1967) _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, Wells, S. (ed.), London: Penguin Books. Lines in order of appearance: I.i.1-11; II.i.81-87; V.i.387-390.


	6. Delicate Lines

_C__hecked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 2, 2011_. 

**Chapter Six: Delicate Lines**

The sun had long since travelled below the horizon leaving the Kingdom of the Goblins shrouded in darkness. Lights could be seen flickering in windows, extinguished one by one as the hours slipped by and inhabitants of the Goblin City settled for the night. In the gardens beside the castle, one light burned steadily on longer than the rest.

By the light of a small lantern, Hoggle surveyed the work he had done that day. Though a few new things were planted, he spent most of the daylight hours caring for the plants that were already there. In any case, there was not much left in the way of planting to be completed and pruning and weeding the rest took up most of his time. That left little time for completing the little things left to be done. Things such as placing the stepping stones, crafting benches for under some of the trees, and building any extra walls, fountains, or other ornamentation. So, when the rest of Jareth's day staff went home for the night, Hoggle lately found himself staying on in an attempt to get it all done.

For some reason, he felt in his bones the need for the gardens to be completed soon, as though time was running out. He often thought someone, or something, was compelling him, but he could not figure out who or what that was. It was not Jareth, to be sure. That one had often walked through the gardens at dusk and happened upon Hoggle, telling him with a laugh that he worked too hard and should go home. Hoggle would do so with a sigh, but the next day could be found working even later.

Leaning on his spade, Hoggle wiped his brow with a satisfied sigh. "Soon, now, it will be ready." He started when he realized he hadn't said that for his own benefit, but for someone else's. "Heh. Going a little mad myself," he said, shaking his head. Gathering up the rest of his tools and the tiny lantern, he turned in the direction of the little garden shed. He walked across the lawn, whistling tunelessly.

Suddenly, a sound rent the air, as though large pieces of fabric were being torn. There was a great flash of light and a burst of power, momentarily blinding Hoggle and throwing him backwards into a flower bed. The candle in his lantern went out, plunging everything in darkness. "Blast. If it ain't one thing, it's another." Hoggle fumbled in the darkness to relight the flame so as to take stock of the damage and attempt to discover what happened. He blinked as his eyes grew accustomed to the change of light and peered around.

Something moved in the darkness just beyond the circle of light emanating from the lantern. Hoggle gasped, scrambling to his feet. It made no further movements, but moaned lowly instead. Tentatively, Hoggle approached the shape. As he neared, recognition dawned and his eyes widened. "Yer Majesty!" He rushed forward and rolled the nearly unconscious man onto his back, then moved him into a sitting position. "Yer Majesty," he repeated, "are you alright? What happened?"

"Aboveground..." he muttered. His head was hung forward on his chest, as though he was too weak to hold himself upright. Each breath was ragged and even speech seemed to come with difficulty. "Too quickly... Was too soon... Returned... not ready... she's not ready..." His staggered and slightly incoherent explanation was cut off when he suddenly passed out cold.

"Yer Majesty?" Hoggle cried out in alarm. Gently setting Jareth down again, he checked to make sure he was still breathing. Satisfied, shallow though the breaths, he ran inside to get help.

Not five minutes later, Hoggle rushed back with nearly dozen Goblins in tow. Together, they carried Jareth up to his bedchamber. On the way, he wavered in and out of consciousness, repeatedly muttering that string of words that did not make much sense to those attending him. Hoggle could not make much out of it, but he managed to gather that, whatever happened Aboveground, Jareth had returned Underground in an abrupt manner rather than using his normal finesse with magic or traveling in another form. Hoggle knew that could only mean Jareth had tapped his magic raw instead of channelling it into a more malleable form, something he would only do should he or one of his subjects be in grave danger. That was a rule all inhabitants of the kingdom knew. One that was given seemingly without reason, though Hoggle believed that reason lay stretched out before him.

After laying him on his bed, most of the Goblins discreetly bowed their way out of the room leaving Hoggle and two of Jareth's personal servants behind. "Wha'do we do now?" Hoggle wondered aloud.

One of the Goblins looked up at Hoggle. "I am not quite sure. The Goblin King has always cared for _us_, not the other way around."

"Perhaps," said the other, "we should try to make him comfortable, and then he will be able to rest easier and recover soon." The first Goblin nodded and the two busied themselves with that task. Hoggle sighed and watched them work. When they were finished, the second Goblin turned to him. "We should leave him alone now."

"You go ahead. I'll wait here in case he needs anything." Hoggle sat himself in a chair across the room before the Goblins could contradict him. They looked slightly discomforted, as though one of them should wait as servants. But they left without making a fuss, dimming the lights as they went out of the room.

Hoggle watched in silence as Jareth tossed in a restless sleep for more than an hour. All the while, he continued his mutterings, though they were no longer audible. Slowly, he calmed down and settled and, just before falling still and into a deep slumber, he uttered one last word. It caught Hoggle's attention and caused his eyebrows to shoot up. As a general, unspoken rule, no one dared to give voice to that word out of fear of Jareth's reaction. Hoggle had not even heard reference to it in years, yet there was no question what was distinctly emitted from Jareth's lips:

"Sarah..."

* * *

Sarah lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. She had a small candle burning on her nightstand, the relaxing scent of lavender wafting about the room. From where they lay next to the candle, twelve crystal roses caught the light of the flame and reflected it around the otherwise dark room. Turning her head slightly, she could see two vases on her desk. Each held a bouquet of flowers: one a mishmash from her brother, the other twelve white roses from _him_. She still hadn't decided what to make of it all. This business of showering her with gifts at each show anonymously and then, when he finally makes an appearance, vanishing without even saying hello.

_Stupid man. Not_, she clarified to herself_, that I _wanted_ him to say hello of course_.

True, but since you saw and recognized him it would only have been the polite thing to do.

_Right. Especially after haunting my dreams for the past nine years._

He did not haunt your dreams.

_Whose side are you on? But I guess there was only the one and it wasn't actually a dream._

Exactly. But I will grant that he _did_ make you believe it was all a dream for the past nine years and then turned up, throwing all your notions out of the water.

And_ after making dinner an uncomfortable affair because I was so distracted and couldn't even begin to explain it to anyone there._

No, dinner happened after he showed up.

_Fine, and _thereby_ making dinner uncomfortable._

You know, you really can't go blaming everything on him.

_Yes, I can. Watch me. And as you said, he should have said something to be polite. He's just as rude as always._

Um, he did give you flowers.

_I didn't ask for them in any case. I certainly didn't _want_ them. I still don't._

So why did you keep them all after telling yourself you were going to chuck them out the car window and drive over them?

_Because... Well, because... Hey, I do _not_ have to justify myself to you! And I am not going to continue having this ridiculous argument with myself. So just be quiet already._ Sarah waited for her voice of reason to pipe up again, nodding with satisfaction when it didn't. _It _is_ all his fault. Stupid man._

She turned her gaze back to the ceiling and the dancing reflections of candlelight. Sighing in frustration, she flipped over onto her stomach, her head dangling off the side of her bed. A bit of white caught her eye and she leaned farther over the side to reach down. Her hand came in contact with the feather she had found on the floor at the theatre. Rolling back onto the bed to rest on her side, she twirled it in her fingers. _What was he doing there, anyway?_ Writing first her name and then his on her palm with the tip, she noticed it was soft and silky, feeling not at all like what she thought an owl's feather would feel like. Without thinking, she brushed it against her cheek.

As though that simple action was the key to opening a floodgate, she was suddenly hit with a barrage of memories from her night in the Labyrinth. It replayed in her mind, moment by moment, and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Unexplainable tears of loss, of pain, of embarrassment, of anger, of confusion, and of abandonment.

She lay on her back once again, staring at the ceiling, tears streaming down to soak her duvet. _He didn't even say hello. Stupid, stupid man._


	7. Dreams and Revelations

_C__hecked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 2, 2011_. 

**Chapter Seven: Dreams and Revelations**

Jareth stared into the clouds. He had never before been in this place, though he knew enough of it to know where he was. When taught about it, he was told it was filled with mist. But, looking into it, he felt that 'mist' was too light a term. _Fog would be more appropriate,_ he thought. _And, as the Mortal expression goes, it is thick as pea soup. _Though nothing here was truly solid, including himself, he could have walked around. He would have gotten nowhere and seen nothing, so instead he clasped his hands behind his back and continued to stare forward and wait.

He was not left waiting long.

"At last, the Goblin King has ventured into the faded Realm of Faerie Dreams. Unbidden he comes, and after so many refused invitations." A deep voice resounded from behind him, filled with wisdom and experience. Jareth turned to face the speaker. He was clad in long, flowing robes of silver. Though his face appeared young, in his pale blue eyes reflected an age of thousands of years gone by. On his arm was a woman in similar dress, with the same timeless features. Her long, white hair was swept up away from her face and pinned with a cluster of gems, the only ornament indicating rank and power worn between the two of them.

Jareth bowed low, "Your Majesties. Indeed, I have come."

"Such formality from one who has turned his back on the High Court of the Fae, as his ancestors have done before him. However, although thou hast long since shut out Our ways, in times past thou were once held in Our favor. For this reason We come to thee here, to give thee aid if thou doth ask it and begin to mend this breech." She spoke with a gentle rebuke, but without malice or resentment.

The High King tilted his head to one side slightly. "Even when thou were in Our favor, since thou came into thy Powers thou hast guarded thy thoughts. Thou hast guarded thy dreams. Thou hast built walls to shut out all and close thyself in. But one does not enter this Realm without intention, and here thy mind is free and open for Us to read. It is a strange action for one so careful with his privacy." They approached him and each placed a hand on his shoulders. "Rise, Goblin King, and walk with Us. We shall speak of thy troubles and give thee counsel."

Jareth rose as he was bidden, and walked between the others. "You say no one enters this Realm unintended. However, I had no intention of coming to this place now."

"This is true," the High Queen regarded him with a bemused smile. "Another power has helped to bring you here. Thou hast somehow bound thyself more closely to thy Kingdom and its Magic than most other Fae throughout history have done. Certainly more so than any other Goblin King before thee."

"The nature of Fae Kingdoms is that they give their rulers what those rulers want, Goblin King." The solemnity in the High King's voice caught Jareth off guard. He stopped abruptly, and the High King turned to face him. "Thine own Kingdom hears what thy heart doth beg for, thy most secret and longed for desire. Because of what thou art, _who_ thou art, and the nature of thy powers, such a thing is as powerful as any wish spoken with the True Words. Thy Kingdom, bound to thee as it is, hears this desire, and does everything within its abilities to bring that thing about. Thine own desires become its desires. Thine own powers work in conjunction with its Magic. And that Magic has brought you here."

There was a pause as Jareth thought this over. "So my _Kingdom_ is manipulating me with _my own powers_?"

"In a sense," the High Queen said, a hand held out to forestall any outbursts or sudden actions, "but not entirely. Compelling thee, not manipulating. It merely pushes things forward, becoming a catalyst of sorts in events that would take place in their own time. Giving thee mysterious cause to act sooner rather than later. How it managed to bring thee here unwilling is, admittedly, singular and unexpected. However, thou wouldst have journeyed to this place eventually, it was only a matter of time."

"That is the curious thing. How _hast_ thou managed to be _brought_ here?"

Though Jareth knew they could easily pluck the answers from his thoughts, the High King and Queen had long since rejected petty antics of rummaging through another's mind unneeded. However, this did not prevent random thoughts from being projected without his carefully placed walls to keep them contained. He would not know what they would hear, and the truth voiced on his own was expected. "I was Aboveground, Your Majesties. While there, I panicked, and returned Underground without channelling, simply using magic raw. I remember falling in and out of consciousness before falling completely under and finding myself here. In my weakened state, I must have been vulnerable to... my own Kingdom," He was still struggling with that idea, "and I was brought here to speak to you."

"That is very likely. But why here of all places? If thou wished to speak to Us, why not transport thee to Our Palace. And what purpose had thee Aboveground? "

"Possibly so you could explain what you just did." His expression changed as he began thinking aloud rather than answering their questions. "Actually, this all makes a great deal of sense. Just before I returned was when I realized I regard her as mine, possessive without cause. That made no sense then, I have not offered, she has not accepted. But if events have been pushed forward..." He trailed off.

"Her?" asked the High King. "Aboveground. Thou art in pursuit of a _Mortal_?" Jareth's carefully schooled expression and lack of denial was confirmation enough. "But thou has little regard for Mortals. Who could have possibly caught thine attention?"

The High Queen's eyes widened. "It is _she,_" came the startled realization. "The one who completed the Labyrinth a few years ago, is it not?" Jareth nodded in reply. There was silence for a few long minutes as the High King and Queen stared at Jareth incredulously.

"I see. You have done well in guarding your secrets, Jareth." The High King's change to informal speech was not lost on Jareth; it was a measure of the seriousness of the entire situation. "You must continue your efforts at doing so. More, if possible. There are those who would use this information against you without a second thought. Strange it is that you were searching for answers to one question so your Kingdom brought you here, where you would find answers to others as well and without risk of intrusion. No one can enter here without our knowledge. Here, unguarded thoughts are safe.

"This explains the rumors of changes within your Kingdom as well," mused the High Queen. "No one is quite sure what these changes are exactly, but I see what has prompted them. Out of curiosity, why did you panic and resort to such a drastic return Underground? The Fae are known for their possessiveness. Though it came as a surprise, surely it did not merit such a response."

Jareth sighed. "I went to see her. In person. As I have not done since we last met. I had followed the rules; she thought the experience was entirely a dream. She saw me and made the connection and I could not -" He sighed again. "It was too soon."

The other two exchanged a look. "I see," said the High King. "I think it best advice be offered now. You must go to her again, Jareth. Considering everything involved, time is fleeting. Go swiftly, but gently."

"Gain her trust. Open her eyes to your world, your ways, your life, and your heart. Do not tell her, but _show_ her what you are offering." The High Queen placed her hands on the sides of his face and gently kissed his forehead. He could feel strength and healing fill his body where it lay in his bed.

"Go now," continued the High King. "Go with speed and Our blessings, King of the Goblins. You are welcome here again, should you ever find yourself lost."

Jareth bowed low once more. "My thanks, Your Majesties, for the aid I did not know I sought." As he rose, he slowly faded into the clouds. The High King and Queen stood watching the place once occupied by his form.

"She must accept him, Oberon. It is only a matter of time before this gets out, regardless of how careful he is. He is her only chance at protection from his enemies."

"But it is not only that, Titania. My love, you heard his thoughts as well as I. He has not acknowledged it yet, but though she is not yet his, he is undeniably hers. These two pieces were put into play long ago, and, though they thought it was just a game, she has truly denied him once, both unknowing what was at stake, what was being offered. If she denies him a second time, refuses to submit herself wholly to him as he has already done, albeit unwittingly, to her, it could drive him mad."

"Though I wish you did not voice it, you speak the truth. But I believe it has gone past the possibility of madness, my lord. You saw it. If she denies him a second time, it will most certainly destroy him." They were silent again, and a smile appeared on her lips. "A pity we may not interfere. I should dearly like to meet this young woman. I do not recall having seen any of his line looking so... humble. It is as though the arrogance they seemed to have deliberately bred has dissipated slightly."

"_That_ was not humble. Ceremonial, perhaps. Mildly formal, perhaps. But humble? I think not, my dear. However, you are right; he is changed. And, perhaps, a meeting can be arranged. We must think on this." With that, he offered his arm and, after she took it, they turned and disappeared into the clouds as well.


	8. Anal Retentive Librarians

_C__hecked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 2, 2011_. 

**Chapter Eight: Anal-Retentive Librarians**

Throwing her pencil down on the table, Sarah sighed. She had been in the University Library for hours surrounding herself with piles of books, stacks of note cards, and scattered papers. All week she had been working on the second draft of her Senior thesis, which meant rereading, backtracking, double-checking source material, and, in some cases, complete section revision.

Finally she had finished. _And not a moment too soon,_ she thought. _If I had to do one more page I think my head would have exploded._ It had been slow going, she had been having difficulties focusing. Now it was time to let it rest for a week or two, and then she would type up the new draft, print it out, and start the process all over again. At this point, she had most of her content. All that was left was ironing out the kinks, though some kinks would likely end up rather large. Such was the way of things.

She stretched her arms over her head, arching her back, before leaning back in her chair. Then she pulled her hair out of its tight ponytail, tossing the scrunchee into her bag on the floor. As she massaged her scalp with her left hand, she flexed her right and tried to get the feeling back into her fingers.

Finally, she looked at her watch and realized the Library was to close in a half hour. _I'd better put these books back so they are around for the next victim._ Still, she took her time putting her things away, keeping everything organized. Then she stacked the books she had not checked out. In the process, her long hair became statically charged and she searched her pockets for her scrunchee to pull it back again before she realized it was now at the bottom of her bag underneath all of her things. Rather than digging it out again, she twisted her hair into a lose knot and fixed it in place with a pencil. There were still stray hairs wisping all over, but at least it was out of the way and not glued to her face. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she gathered the stack of books in her arms and headed for the shelves.

Thankfully, they were all from the same section so she would not have to run all over the place. She supposed she should let the Library staff take care of it, but they never put things away in a timely manner. She knew that, if she left it to them, should she need the books again in a few weeks they would not be found until after the paper was due.

As she balanced the stack in one arm and tried reshelving them with one hand, she felt the whole lot slipping. Just before they toppled to the ground, she managed to catch all but one, the top book sliding to the floor with a loud "thud."

"Shhh!" came the comment from the Librarian, whose desk was in full view of the aisle in which Sarah stood. Sarah rolled her eyes. While she understood and agreed with the policy for quiet, that woman would harp on you if you sneezed, whether out of illness or from the dust gathering on _Moby Dick_. She left the book on the floor until she finished with what was in her arms, then, shifting her bag, she turned back to where she had dropped it and froze.

Jareth leaned against the column in the middle of the aisle, holding out to Sarah the book she had dropped. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she said nothing. She simply stared at him in silence, not entirely sure what to do or to say. He stared back, taking advantage of the opportunity to observe her in close quarters rather than from a crystal and in a lit room rather than a dim foyer of a theatre.

Bereft of stage make-up, of make-up of any kind in fact, there was no one but Sarah in front of him. No character from a play, just Sarah. She looked tired; beginnings of dark circles were forming under her eyes. A pen was tucked behind one ear. She was clutching the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles were turning white. The loose knot at the back of her head was falling away from the pencil holding it there and fly-aways framed her face. She looked slightly insecure, marginally worried, and vulnerable. The picture she presented made him want to smile, but he repressed the desire and continued to school his expression toward blankness. Instead, he pushed himself off of the column and took a step toward her. Reaching out with a gloved hand, he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Though she did not move, her eyes widened even more.

Finally, he spoke: "Are you going to blink?" Even though he whispered, Sarah could hear the sultry undertones of his voice.

_After nine years and everything he's done, _that_ is the first thing he says?_ she thought, preparing to give him a piece of her mind. "Are you going to disappear if I do?"

The shocked look on her face told Jareth that was not what she intended to say. Regardless, it made him wince. "No."

"Oh." She was not sure how to respond to the pained expression that flickered over his features. She still did not blink, continuing to stare at him.

This time, he did not bother to contain his smile. "Hello, Sarah."

"Hello." He held the book out to her once more and her gaze dropped to it. "Oh. Um. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She took the book, returning her gaze to his face. After another long moment she took a deep breath and slowly turned to the shelf. _He will be gone again,_ she thought as she found the spot belonging to the book._ I will turn around and he will be gone, confirming that I am simply working too hard and am hallucinating someone from a dream. Yeah. That's it. _Turning, she found him still there, regarding her with a slightly bemused and knowing expression. They stood there in silence again, and then it clicked at whom, exactly, she was looking.

Jareth noticed her eyes suddenly beginning to smolder with a familiar, though not disturbing, anger. "You..." she began.

"Shhhhh!" came the reprimand from the Librarian.

Sarah realized she had inadvertently spoken at a normal level. Blushing furiously, she glared at Jareth whose expression had not changed. "You," she began again, whispering this time, "have some nerve coming here. You take my brother, make me go on a ridiculous quest, tell me that the whole thing was what I wanted, and mess with my mind and make me believe the whole thing was a dream. Then, after _nine years _of nothing, you shower me with the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen and leave them mysteriously unsigned, show up and let me see you and figure out it was you, and then you _leave again_ without so much as a 'hello' or 'how've you been'. And _then, _after another month and a half of more nothing, you just waltz in, start picking up after me, and the first thing you say has to do with whether or not I blink." Sarah realized the piece of mind being delivered was not making much sense and decided to change tactics. "What are you doing here anyway? Here, at the University Library, of all places?"

Infuriatingly to Sarah, Jareth's smile grew. "I am here because it is where you are. And I have come to ask if you would do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner."

Her jaw dropped and she resorted to staring at him again. "You what?" she finally said, completely incredulous.

"SHHHHH!"

Rolling her eyes, she pushed her way past Jareth with a sigh. At the end of the aisle, she turned to find him looking after her, once again expressionless. She gave him an impatient look and motioned for him to follow her, then stalked off. Raising an eyebrow, he did so as she wound through the shelves to a wall with doors reading 'Listening Rooms'. After peeking in some of the windows, she found one that was empty and threw open the door. He entered close behind her, closing the door gently and leaning up against it. He watched as she struggled to get untangled from her bag and dump it on the chair with a thud. She turned and looked at him expectantly. He raised his eyebrow again.

"How does he do that?" she muttered.

"How do I do what?" he asked quietly.

_Always look completely in control of every situation, as though nothing can ever break through that haughty exterior. Make me feel like an immature, awkward fourteen-year-old with one look._ "Oh, never mind," she waved her hand, dismissive and frustrated. "Are you saying that you came all the way here just to ask me out on a d- ask me to dinner?"

"Yes." He paused. "Well, that and to... apologize."

His slight struggle over the last word broke through her surprise, and she realized with chagrin that she was staring at him slack jawed yet again. "Apologize?"

"Yes," he said again. Then he sighed and looked away. "I should not have... left the way I did that night at the theatre. I did not come all the way there simply to leave without speaking to you."

The acknowledgment dissipated most of the anger she had pent up for the last month and a half. Desperately, she tried to hold on to what was left simply because without it everything got too confusing. "So why did you, then?"

"I thought at the last second that it might have been a mistake. That it was too soon and you were not ready. And I... did not know what else to do at that point other than leave."

"What do you mean you thought I was not ready? Not ready for what? Am I now?"

"For a confrontation." He turned his eyes back to hers, holding her gaze intently and slowly walking toward her. "After I left and had time to think I realized my leaving had as much to do with myself not being ready for this as it had to do with you. Are you now? Am I? Perhaps. Does it even matter?" He stopped just over a foot away from her and shrugged casually, not one breaking eye contact. "It is too late to matter. Time grows short, Sarah. There is little enough of it to worry over whether or not we are ready for this. For here I am. And here you are."

_Hah,_ she thought, _so this _isn't_ as easy for you as you act!_ For some reason, that thought was of little comfort. "Oh," was all she could think to say. "Well... um... I accept your apology." She got the feeling that he was extremely relieved. "But," she hesitated briefly, "what about... the whole thing with Toby?"

Jareth's eyes narrowed. "What about it? You _did_ wish him away, Sarah."

"Yes, I know. I mean... what about... Why did you make me forget it really happened?" she rushed out.

He let out a short, slightly bitter laugh. "Those are the rules."

"Oh." She blinked.

She was about to say something else when the door was jerked open. Standing in the doorway was the Librarian. She sniffed at their obvious using of the room for purposes other than listening to Library media. "The Library is closing. You two will have to leave." Before either of them could respond, she sniffed again and swept away. Jareth stared in disbelief at the slowly closing door.

Sarah grinned at him as she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulders again. "Come on. We had better leave before she has to ask us again. That won't be pretty, trust me."

"I see," he said dryly. They walked side by side in silence, leaving the Library. Outside, dusk had fallen. They were the last ones to have left; no other students could be seen wandering this part of campus.

"You still haven't answered my question, Sarah." Jareth stared ahead as he spoke.

Startled out of her thoughts, Sarah did not know what he meant. "What question?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" he asked again with another grin.

"Oh right. When?"

"Tomorrow night, if you are free."

"I..." Her insecurity suddenly got the better of her and she blurted out, "Why?"

He stopped short and looked at her. "Why? Because I would like to see you again, to speak with you, to enjoy your company."

"Well, yes of course. I mean, no. I mean," she shook her head, flustered. "I mean why are you asking me? Surely there is someone else who-"

He interrupted her, "No one else. _You_ are who I wish to be with, Sarah. Had I wanted the company of another, I would not have asked you."

"But-"

He interrupted her again, "It should be reason enough, should it not? If you do not wish to go, you can just-"

"No, no," she interrupted him this time. "I'd like that. It'd be nice. To have dinner with you would be nice." She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and the pen went flying. Reaching out a hand, Jareth caught it and held it out to her. She blushed, taking the pen. "Thanks."

"Of course. Until tomorrow then?"

"Alright - Oh. Where are we going?"

"A small restaurant called Clancy's."

"Ok." She smiled at him. "I'll see you tomorrow then." He made a slight bow then turned to walk away. A sudden thought occurred to Sarah. "Jareth?"

He turned again. "Yes?"

"Do you have a car?"

There was that knowing grin again. "No."

"Well, it'd be a bit of a walk and since you can't drive and I can't, well, fly... should we meet there?"

"If you like."

"Right. What time?"

And again. _He really needs to stop doing that._ "Seven."

"Ok. See you." She gave a small wave.

Looking around, Jareth saw that no one was around. "Until tomorrow," he said again, meeting her eyes once more. In a brief flurry, he was no longer standing in front of her. An owl swooped around her head once before flying off into the distance. She watched it, mesmerized, until it vanished.

Turning down the path, she started walking back to her dorm. Abruptly, she stopped and slapped her forehead. "I did not just agree to go out on a date with the Goblin King, did I?"

_Yep, you sure did._

She groaned. "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah," she muttered. "_What_ are you thinking?"

_Obviously you aren't._

"Obviously." She sighed and started walking again. "Well, I guess at least this way you can try to figure out what he is up to, what game he is playing this time."

_What if he isn't playing a game?_

"What do you mean, what if he isn't? Of course he is. He's the Goblin King."

_And you are suddenly an expert on the Goblin King?_

"Argh. I thought you were going to stop talking to yourself. Go find Aggie and talk to her instead." Checking the time, she started jogging back to her dorm thinking if she hurried, she find her friend and they could head for the Dining Room before it closed for the night.


	9. Meatloaf Again

_C__hecked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 2, 2011_. 

**Chapter Nine: Meatloaf, Again?**

"Aggie," Sarah moaned from where she sat in the middle of the room, "we're just going to the caff. You don't really have to do your hair, do you? I'm famished. Let's just go."

"Your being famished has little to do with me. It is your own fault for holing up in the Library all day. And yes, I really have to do my hair. One never knows when the man of one's dreams is going to walk in the room."

"Oh, please."

"Ok, fine. It's a stupid reason. But at least I don't wander around campus day in and day out looking a fright like some people who happen to be sitting in the middle of my room. When was the last time you looked in the mirror, Williams?"

"This morning, why?"

Agnes snorted. "Have a peek." She tossed a hand mirror to Sarah who caught it gingerly.

As Sarah looked at her frazzled reflection, she realized her thoughts at the moment were quite irrational: _He saw you looking like _this_?_

"Hey, what's up? I'm only teasing. You look like you just swallowed a goose egg whole or something."

Sarah shook her head. "It's nothing. Are you ready now?"

"Yep, let's jet." The pair jogged to the campus dining hall and, grabbing trays, high tailed to the counter.

"Pushing things a bit, aren't we ladies?" Andy, the Marriott rep for their school, was standing at the cash register. "Five more minutes and the food would have been cleared."

"What can I say? Perfect timing is a gift of mine," Agnes quipped.

"Or a curse." Sarah poked at the dish with the serving spoon. "If we were late, we would have had to fend for ourselves instead. Hey Andy, don't you guys _ever_ vary the menu? We have meatloaf every Saturday."

"Assuming it's actually meat," Agnes muttered.

"I heard that. And if you want a menu change-"

"Fill out a comment card." The girls finished for him. They piled their trays with what was left of the food, opting for large salads rather than the slightly dried meatloaf, as well as a stack of lemon bars each. Swiping their cards, they went for a table in the corner.

There were still a number of people still lingering in the dining hall. The captain of the football team, who happened to also be president of the chess club, was playing chess with the Dean of English. His teammates were sitting around them trying to figure out how their brawny friend managed to be a jock _and _a nerd at the same time. Some freshmen were in another corner building meatloaf sculptures. Some upper classmen watched them with glazed expressions, their stacks of books indicating they had come to study but were either easily distracted or brain dead from all the school work. Sarah and Agnes ignored the lot and tucked in.

At least, Agnes tucked in. Gnawing on a carrot stick, she watched Sarah stab a cucumber and bring it to her mouth four times without actually taking a bite. "Alright, Williams. Spill it."

Startled, Sarah dropped her fork. "What?"

"Don't you 'what' me. You burst into my room, completely agitated and rearing to go eat because you are 'famished'. Now we are here and have what passes for food at this place and you're not eating. Then there was that thing with the mirror. What gives? ... You didn't run into Sammuel again did you?"

"He asked me to dinner," she said distractedly, having gone back to stabbing her vegetables.

This time, Agnes dropped her fork. "He did _what?_ Hassling you again, eh? When is that nitwit going to learn? Someone has to pound his head into the pavement." She glanced over at the chess match. "Edmund would do it. He owes me a favor."

"You can't have him pound into the pavement." Sarah looked at her best friend as though she had lost her mind. "And he isn't hassling me. He just asked me to dinner, that's all. It isn't like it means anything. It's just dinner."

"Just dinner? _Just_ dinner? It's never _just_ anything with Sammuel, Sarah. Just you watch. Do you want me to go talk to Edmund now, or wait until later?"

Sarah looked at her friend blankly. She never called her by her first name unless she was either really excited or agitated. "Who said anything about Sammuel?"

"You did."

"No I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No I - Fine, when?"

"Just now. I asked you if you ran into Sammuel and you said he asked you to dinner."

"Oh, I didn't hear that. I started thinking about your other question first."

"You really need a break from all that studying." Agnes shook her head. "Alright then if it wasn't Sammuel, who was it?"

"Jareth."

"And that name is supposed to mean something to me because why?"

"He was the Mystery Man who sent me all those flowers."

"You met him?" Agnes shouted, standing so fast her chair fell over. Silence fell over the dining hall as all eyes looked in their direction. Agnes looked back at them. "Go back to your business people, nothing to see." There were mutterings of 'drama students' around the room, but everyone turned away. With great dignity, Agnes picked up her chair and sat down again. After a pause, she grabbed the edge of the table and leaned forward. "You met him?" she hissed. "And you waited until I had to drag it out of you to tell me? Geez, Sarah, I'm supposed to be your best friend."

"You are. I just wasn't sure how to bring it up."

Agnes rolled her eyes. "That's a lame excuse. You could have tried bursting in my room with 'You will NEVER guess who I just met' instead of 'I'm famished. Let's go to the caff'." She leaned back in her chair and bit a celery stick in half before glaring at it. "Why does celery have no flavor?"

"Because it is made mostly of water and you burn more calories eating it than it contains. Have some of my peanut butter."

"Good call. Thanks. So, what does he look like?"

"Who?"

"Who, she asks. Your Mystery Man. This Jareth, if that's even his real name. Maybe I'll have Edmund follow you two when you go out. Though he'd rather pound Sammuel's head in, I'm sure. There's been bad blood between them for awhile."

Sarah giggled. "Edmund does not need to follow me, nor does he need to pound someone's head in on my behalf. And Jareth is his real name."

"If you say so. But what does he look like?"

"He looks... Huh, he looks the same as I remember him. Well, except for the fact he was wearing jeans."

"As you _remember_ him?" Agnes sat bolt upright. "You met him before?"

"Well, yeah. But it was ages ago, when I was fourteen or so. But I hadn't seen him in years. I certainly never would have expected him to be sending me flowers."

"He knew you when you were fourteen, haven't seen him in years, and suddenly out of the blue he's your, what was it, 'most devoted admirer'? Sounds a bit weird, if you ask me."

"I guess so... But at the same time it isn't at all." She shrugged. "I can't really explain it."

"Alright, I'll let it slide until I meet him and give him the once over. But if I hear one word of kinkiness, I'm letting Edmund loose, deal?"

Sarah laughed. "Do I get a choice? It's a deal, but only because you're my best friend."

"Whatever it takes. But enough with the protective paranoia. What exactly happened?" This time, both of them tucked into their salad and lemon bars as Sarah explained of her meeting Jareth at the Library and the ensuing conversation. She left out nothing, except the details referring to her trip through the Labyrinth.

Afterward, they walked back to the dorms together. Agnes sighed. "'I have come to ask if you would do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner'. He actually said that?"

"Yep."

"And he has a British accent?"

"Yep." _Even though there is no reason for him to have one, considering his origin._

"And you actually questioned why he asked you?"

"Yep."

"And he said that you're the one he wants to be with?"

"Yep."

"Sounds serious, if he wants to 'be' with you."

"What's serious about wanting to be with me for dinner?"

Agnes rolled her eyes. Her friend was missing the obvious signs. _Fine, if she wants to play it that way._ "Nothing, I guess." Then she sighed again. "But he doesn't have a car."

"Nope."

"And that doesn't bother you."

"Nope. Should it?"

"No, probably not. But he's taking you to Clancy's?"

"Yep."

Agnes whistled. "Good choice for a first date."

"What do you mean 'first'?"

"Do you seriously think he's just aiming for one date?"

"There's no telling that it'll work out. It isn't that big of a deal. I'm sure he just wants to talk, catch up on things and stuff."

"Yeah, right, Williams. No one sends a girl twelve live bouquets and one of glowing crystal roses just to 'catch up on stuff'."

Sarah looked at Agnes for a minute, concerned, then shook her head. "No, Aggie. I'm sure you're wrong. It's just dinner."

"Alright, alright. I'll stop giving you a hard time for now. However, I will say this. I still think the whole fourteen then nine years of absence then Mystery Man thing is a bit weird. But he sounds too incredible to let that get in the way."

"Yeah," Sarah said noncommittally. _It's the too incredible part that I'm worried about._

If Agnes noticed Sarah's lack of enthusiasm, she did not comment on it. By this time, they had reached the dorms, gone up the stairs, and were standing on Agnes' floor. "Well, I'm bushed. You're brain dead. I'll see you tomorrow. Wake me up for breakfast, yeah?"

"Sure thing. Bright and early at 8am."

"If you knock on my door before 10:27 I will throw you out the window."

Sarah laughed. "Well, as long as you don't have Edmund pound my head in, that's fine. See you in the morning, Aggie," she said as she ran up the next flight to her own floor.


	10. Frantic Preparations

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Ten: Frantic Preparations**

It was 5:15 in the evening. Agnes was sprawled on the beat-up, old couch she had stuffed in the corner of her room watching the minutes tick by on her clock. She looked at her watch for the third time and synchronized the times. Again. Turning her gaze to the door, her eyes narrowed. "Hm," she said.

Another minute went by before there was a knock on the door. "Finally," Agnes muttered, grabbing her book from where she had dropped it on the floor and opening it to a random page. "Come in!" The door opened and someone came in.

"Hey Agnes. Do you know where the vacuum cleaner is?"

"The vac-" she broke off when she realized who she was not talking to. "Oh... it's you."

"Don't sound so excited. Sheesh."

Agnes grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Kara. I'm waiting for Williams. She has a date tonight that she is more excited about than she is willing to admit, for some strange reason I haven't figured out yet."

"Ohhh. And you're trying to appear casual as though you aren't waiting?" Kara, a sophomore who lived three doors down, shut the door behind her and leaned against it.

"Bingo."

"Well, you might want to try holding the book right side up."

Agnes looked down at the book in her hands and started chuckling. "Good idea, though she probably won't notice." She checked the clock again. "5:21. Man, where _is_ she?"

"What time is the date?"

"They're meeting at seven."

"Hm." They both stared at the clock. After three minutes of silence, there was another knock on the door. Both girls jumped, Agnes grabbed the book again as Kara launched herself across the room, swept Agnes' feet off the couch, dropped down next to her, and pulled another book off the shelf.

"Come in!" Agnes said.

"Agnes, you have a screwdriver, right? Oh, hi Kara." The two on the couch looked up and, seeing a head poked around the corner, they sighed. "What?"

Agnes opened her mouth, but Kara beat her to it. "We are waiting for Sarah who, apparently, has a date tonight at seven and she hasn't come down yet. But we're trying to not _look_ like we're waiting."

"Not look like you're waiting with Agnes reading a book upside down and you reading Jung even though everyone knows you hate psychology?" They both looked down at their books and exchanged glances.

"I forgot to flip it around," said Agnes.

"And I just grabbed the first thing off the shelf."

Annabelle, a junior and R.A. of the first floor, came all the way in and shut the door. "Why is it such a big deal that Sarah has a date, anyway? She's always played it cool."

"Good question." Kara turned to Agnes.

"Well," she said conspiratorially, "partly because of _who_ she is going out with. Remember the flowers she got at the play?"

Kara and Annabelle's eyes opened wide. The whole dorm had heard about the flowers and the notes. "_Him?_" they said together.

"Yep."

"Is he coming here? Will we get to see him?" asked Annabelle in a rush.

Agnes shook her head. "No. I guess they're meeting there."

"Where, exactly?" asked Kara.

"Clancy's."

"_Clancy's_?" Annabelle's jaw dropped. "Wow. That's, like, the ideal first date restaurant."

"I know. Anyway, you should have heard her last night. I've known her for years and I've never seen her like this. She's completely distracted and nervous, but denies that it is anything special."

"Flowers, crystal ones at that, Clancy's, and it isn't anything special?" Kara shook her head.

"Wait, wait," Annabelle held up one hand. "If they're meeting there, and her car is in the shop right now, does that mean she's taking the streetcar?"

Agnes nodded. "Yep." All three looked at the clock again. 5:38.

"Where _is_ she?" A third knock on the door stopped Annabelle from saying more. She threw herself into Agnes' desk chair and started rummaging through the drawers as the other two girls buried themselves in their books.

"Come in!" called Agnes. The door opened, then shut again after someone entered the room.

"_What_ are you three doing?" Janet, Kara's roommate, looked at them with a dubious expression. "I come to see if Kara has found the vacuum cleaner and instead find suspicious activity." She gestured at Jung.

"Quick, sit down and look casual, Janet!" Annabelle waved her further into the room. "Sarah's got a date with her secret admirer at seven, is completely high strung about it, and has yet to come down."

Janet plopped down on the beanbag in front of the closet. "You mean that guy who gave her those gorgeous roses?"

"That'd be the one," answered Agnes.

"Dude..." She looked at the clock. "5:41? Agnes, you're her best friend. Why hasn't she come to ask your opinion yet?"

"That's what we're waiting to find out," said Kara.

"You know," said Agnes, "the vacuum cleaner is in the closet and Arnie has my toolbox. You guys don't actually have to wait."

"Sure we do," countered Annabelle. "The more the merrier, and we wouldn't want you to wait alone." Agnes shrugged in assent and they all went back to watching the clock. Another ten minutes passed.

Suddenly, the door was flung open. The four girls jumped and looked up to find Sarah standing in the doorway, completely drenched. "Williams! What happened to you?" Agnes jumped up and pushed Janet out of the way to get a towel out of the closet. She grabbed Sarah's arm and threw the towel over her head.

"I was in my bathroom, brushing my teeth, and I heard shouts through the wall. Well, of course I went out there to see what was going on, and they were coming from the girl's bathroom on my floor. And when I went in there, one of the sinks was overflowing. Something to do with a prank, I guess. So I went to try and see what was clogging it, and the whole thing exploded! I've been trying to sort it out for the past two hours. And when I went in my room, I found the pressure had caused _my_ sink to explode since it is right next door. The water somehow got into my closet and everything's soaked! I don't know what to wear and I haven't even taken a shower yet and I have to leave in half an hour or so! This is a disaster. What am I going to do? I knew this was all a big mistake and -"

Agnes cut her off. "Shut up, Williams. You obviously knew what to do if you came here. Luckily, Kara, Annabelle, and Janet happened to all stop by. Between the four of us, we'll figure it out."

"But-"

"No buts," she pushed Sarah through to her own bathroom. "You can take a quick shower in there. We'll sort out the rest." Shutting the bathroom door, she listened to make sure Sarah got the water running then turned to the room.

"Aren't you glad we waited?" Annabelle asked with a grin.

Agnes chuckled and shook her head. "Don't even start." She scratched her head, thinking for a moment, and then clapped her hands together. "Right then, we need clothes, shoes, the lot. Let's go to Williams' room and see if anything is salvageable. Then you three run around for the odds and ends; there has to be someone in this building who is her size, has relatively the same taste, and has not gone to the Caff for dinner yet." Agnes glanced at the clock as they scrambled through the door. _5:56. This guy had better be worth the hassle, Williams._

* * *

_6:33_, Agnes noted with a sigh as she slumped back on her couch. She had just returned from shoving Sarah out the front door, extracting the promise for a late night chat as soon as she returned. Her thoughts turned toward the events of the past half hour.

The situation in Sarah's room was not as bad as it could have been. The four girls had found a soggy floor, and equally soggy shoes, but most of her clothes were ok. Some things were wet, but she had just done laundry. It was sitting folded in baskets on her bed. In short order, they had selected a number of outfits for Sarah to try. Agnes took them downstairs while the other three went looking for shoes.

Back in her room, Agnes found a slightly calmed down Sarah wrapped in towels and brushing her hair. As she was getting dressed, the other girls came back laden with extras. It took another fifteen minutes for her to be mostly put together, what with all the running for 'perfect' bits and pieces someone had in her room or had seen on another girl down the hall. Agnes then sat Sarah down and did her hair. The entire time, Sarah kept insisting that they did not need to go through so much trouble, it was not that big of a deal. The others in turn kept telling her they knew that and they were not going to any trouble at all.

Finally, she was ready to go and the others had returned to their rooms, leaving Agnes and Sarah alone. At that point, Sarah began to have second thoughts, wondering if she was doing the right thing by accepting dinner. Agnes simply rolled her eyes and guided her to the door. With a shove, she got her outside and looked at her watch. "Oh, look at the time. 6:27," she had said nonchalantly.

Sarah's eyes widened at that. "Oh no, I'll miss the tram!" Shouting goodbye over her shoulder, she broke out into a run. Agnes stood watching at the door until Sarah disappeared around the bend. Shaking her head and chuckling to herself, she went back to her room.

_Now all I've got to do is wait,_ she thought. With another sigh, she looked up at the ceiling and cracked a grin. Getting up, she took off her socks, donned her flip-flops, and grabbed her keys. When she opened her door, Kara was poised to knock with Janet and Annabelle standing behind her. "She's gone. Finally."

Janet snorted. "I should hope so. Actually, we forgot the vacuum."

"And the screwdriver," added Annabelle. "Where are you going?"

"As I said before, vacuum is in the closet and Arnie has my toolbox. I'm off to get a mop from the custodial closet and then up to Williams' room to clean the mess before water starts seeping into more areas. Want to give a hand?"

The three girls looked at each other and shrugged. "Sure," said Annabelle.

As they walked down the hall, Kara grinned and looked at her companions conspiratorially. "So," she said, "what do you think this mystery man of Sarah's is really like?" Giggling, they spent the next few hours making various wild guesses as they returned Sarah's room to a less aquatic state.


	11. Visions at Sunset

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Eleven: Visions At Sunset**

Sarah hopped off the streetcar and took a deep breath then checked her watch. She was about a block and a half away from the restaurant and it was nearly seven. She hoped Jareth would not mind if she was a few minutes late, and started to walk down the street as calmly as possible.

She need not have worried, for she arrived with a few minutes to spare. As she stood at the base of the steps leading to the entrance, though, she hesitated. Was she supposed to meet him inside? What if he already was seated? Would he have put a reservation under Jareth or under his last name, which she wasn't even sure he had?

"Waiting for someone?"

The quiet voice sent chills up her spine and she fought the urge to jump. Turning, she greeted Jareth with a smile. He was standing under a lamp, leaning against the post, arms crossed. A pair of sunglasses dangled from a gloved hand. He wore light slacks and what she thought was a dark colored dress shirt. However, under the black leather jacket it was difficult to tell. She was mildly surprised by the jacket. Not because it was black leather, but because it was not a full out duster. She would have expected him to go for as close to a cloak as possible rather than one cut just past the hips. Still she had to admit that he looked quite the picture, especially standing as he was just on the edge of the circle of light cast down from above. Her smile broadened.

"Do you always plan your entrances so as to make the fullest impact as possible in an attempt to throw whomever you meet off their guard?"

The warmth in her smile and the gentle teasing in her eyes convinced Jareth that all he had done to achieve this moment had been worthwhile. He knew, however, that it would not last. Yet. Which, he supposed, was just as well since this was only the beginning of his carefully laid plans. "Not _always_," he replied, coming toward her as she laughed. "You look lovely, Sarah."

She blushed, and then grinned cheekily. "You'll do."

"I am so glad you approve," he said with a wry grin, making her laugh all the more. Gesturing toward the door, he said, "Shall we?"

Sarah nodded, once again nearly jumping out of her skin when she felt his hand at the small of her back. _Calm down,_ she thought, taking a deep breath. She had the distinct feeling that Jareth was fully aware of how nervous she was. Unfortunately, that only set her thinking about what else he might know, succeeding in making her even more tightly wound. _Breathe. Remember to breathe._

When they reached the entrance, he opened the door and she preceded him through it. The maître d' stood in conversation with two other members of staff by a short counter. He looked up with a friendly smile. "Ah, good evening Sir, Madam."

"Good evening." As he spoke over her shoulder, Sarah refrained from shaking her head in amusement at the authority in his low voice, indicating someone obviously used to being obeyed. "Seven o'clock reservation for Jareth King."

"Yes of course, Mr. King." After a brief glance at the reservation book lying open on the counter, he continued. "This way, please." The maître d' picked up two menus and walked into the dining area.

"Jareth _King_?" she said to him under her breath as they followed close behind.

"Somehow I doubt I would have been taken seriously had I made the reservation under 'Jareth, King of the Goblins'," he replied.

She giggled. "No, probably not." _I don't remember him as being this amusing,_ she thought. _Of course, I suppose I had a bit of a grudge at the time._

They wound through a number of closely placed tables, and then went past a small fishpond. Water cascaded over the side into an indoor stream, which they crossed using a small bridge. On the other side were more secluded tables in sunken alcoves. Potted plants added between each alcove added to the privacy. Finally, they got to the table. Large windows overlooked the bay and, as it was a clear evening, mountains were seen in the distance. The maître d' took their coats and hung them on a nearby coat stand.

Sarah stepped down and surveyed the view. The sky was tinged a deep purple and the sun had not quite disappeared behind the mountains. A large bird of prey swooped down from the sky to fly low over the water, its wings skimming the surface. Delighted, she looked over her shoulder to ask Jareth if he had seen it. The words caught in her throat when she saw him, standing at the table, watching her with such intensity her heart began to race.

Jareth followed Sarah into the alcove, stopping at the table to pull out her chair. Looking up, he caught sight of her by the window. The sun reached a point where its glow reflected off the water and into the window, casting a gentle halo around her. Time seemed to slow as she turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. As the sun slowly sank below the peaks of the mountain range in the distance, taking its glow with it, Jareth heard the maître d' exhale slowly and turned to him.

When Jareth finally dropped his gaze, Sarah turned back to the window and let out the breath she had not realized she was holding. _What _was_ that?_ Feeling awkward, she moved over to a blooming plant, fingering the leaves and inhaling the scent of the flowers. As she took a moment to recompose herself, she was unaware she was the topic of a quiet conversation behind her.

"She is a vision, Sir," the maître d' commented

Returning his gaze to Sarah, Jareth nodded. "Indeed she is."

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, the maître d' felt compelled to ask, "Your wife?"

"Not yet."

"Yet? Well, congratulations. You are a lucky man. Have you set a date?"

"Have we..." Jareth turned back to the maître d', then let out a low chuckle. "No, you misunderstand me. We are not yet engaged."

He looked mildly horrified at his error. "Oh. Please, forgive my presumption, Sir. I-"

Jareth forestalled him with a raised hand. "No need to apologize. I answered before without thinking of how it would sound. In truth, my intentions lead to that end, though I very much doubt she is aware of it."

"Ah. Then I wish you the best of luck and hope to congratulate you in the future, Sir."

"Luck?" Jareth chuckled again. "Hm. I just might need that. She can be exceptionally vivacious, with a wild and untamed spirit like a fire that blazes out of control." Once again, he looked at the woman standing before them, this time the intense, but unreadable, expression softened into one of pure adoration. "And I would have her no other way," he murmured.

The maître d' regarded the man standing beside him. _Perhaps she is lucky as well, to have such a suitor._ He followed Jareth's gaze to the young woman, noting the nervousness she tried to conceal and the heightened color on her cheeks. _And perhaps, deep down, she is more aware than she appears._ Clearing his throat, he leaned closer to Jareth. "If I may be so bold, Sir, Clancy's is well suited for many types of romantic moments. And, should you need assistance of any sort, the rest of the staff and I are at your disposal. At any time."

Jareth caught the not-so-subtle invitation to return to the restaurant in the future and could not stop his laughter, quickly joined by the maître d'. The sound brought Sarah back to the present. Suddenly aware of her surroundings, she looked back at the table and could not help smiling at the sight. She approached them and looked at Jareth, curiosity on her face.

He smiled in return, secretive and with a slightly mischievous glint in his eyes. Moving the chair slightly, he invited her to sit. She did so and as Jareth seated himself, she looked between the two of them. "Should I be worried, I wonder?"

"Do you have cause, Madam?" asked the maître d' as he placed their napkins in their laps and menus in front of them.

She focused on Jareth. "I have come to the realization that, whatever I _think_ I know about this man, I never truly know what to expect of him." Tilting her head, she went on. "He continues to prove me wrong at every turn, and I find myself questioning my own thoughts and actions." She looked at him with wonder, which he returned in kind with a smile gently tugging at his lips.

"I will give you a few minutes," the maître d' said. He gave a small bow that went unnoticed to the couple then returned the way he came. His thoughts stayed on them as he went. _I have been in this business for more than thirty years,_ he thought, _and I have seen many couples come through in various stages of love. But this... this is something spectacular. It is as though the two of them are... are... _He trailed off in his mind as he reached the reception area. There, he stopped short, staring off into space. _Even if they never return to this restaurant, tonight _must_ be special. It must make an impact. _Plans began forming in his mind.

The two waiters standing there exchanged looks. One of them opened his mouth to find out if their boss was all right, but he was prevented from speaking when the man in question turned abruptly and pointed at them. "You two can handle the door on your own, yes?" Without waiting for an answer, he rushed on. "I must speak with the head chef. Carry on." With a wave of his hand, he disappeared around the corner and into the kitchens.

The two left behind exchanged looks again then shook their heads. "Mental that one, wouldn't you say?" said one.

"Yeah. But he must know what he's doing, considering," replied the other.

"True. I'll never figure out why he still insists on being a waiter, though. If _I _owned a restaurant, I'd just sit back and relax."

The second waiter shrugged. "Who knows," he said as they turned to the small party that had just entered the restaurant.


	12. Comfort and Discord

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Twelve: Comfort and Discord**

"... All of a sudden, the pipes below all twelve sinks started to shake." As he refilled their wine glasses, Marcus, as they discovered the maître d' was called, had asked Sarah why her hair was wet when it had not rained in days. She began quietly telling the story of what happened in the bathrooms, gradually becoming more and more animated. By this time, her hands were held out before her, shaking as vigorously as the pipes had been. "Then, before we knew it, water was spewing _everywhere_!"

By this time, Jareth's rich laughter was causing heads in nearby alcoves to turn, searching out the source and attempting to peer around the barrier of plants. Tears stood in Marcus' eyes and he appeared to be having difficulty catching his breath.

"At first," she continued, shaking her head and chuckling as well, "I thought that the faucets must have blown completely off. Thankfully it was just the water, not airborne plumbing. Otherwise I doubt I would have ever gotten away tonight."

"But what did you do?" asked Marcus, wiping his eyes.

"After a frantic phone call to the plumber, he managed to walk me through shutting off the water to the whole floor. Apparently, each floor has its own water main; otherwise, we would have had to cut the water to the entire building. I guess one year there were so many problems they had the plumbing in the whole building redone just in case there should be another problem. This was the first 'incident' since then."

"An 'incident', was it?" commented Jareth wryly.

"Apparently so." Sarah chuckled again. "Anyway, once the water was shut off, the plumber went on his way to perform an emergency call. I made some signs for the bathroom doors, printed off notices to slip under doors, and cleaned up most of the water."

"I am very impressed with your abilities at handing an emergency situation, Miss Williams." Sarah had asked him not to call her 'madam' because it made her feel old, but he refused to use either her or Jareth's first names. "But, I believe I have monopolized your time enough for one evening. Or at least for this part of it. I will return later." Still chuckling, he gave a little bow and went on his way.

"I don't think I've ever been served by the owner of a restaurant before," Sarah said quietly after Marcus left.

"Nor I. Although," he paused, thoughtful, "I cannot say that I've ever actually been to many restaurants." Sarah went off in peals of laughter once more. As they had decided what to order then waited for Marcus to return the first time, Sarah had become increasingly nervous and slightly withdrawn once again. Jareth was not quite sure what was causing it, exactly, though he suspected he could be found at the root of it all.

It was Marcus who managed to lighten the air initially. He seemed to sense her agitation and minutely adjusted his manner from that of a formal and distant waiter to something a bit more gentle, approachable, and generally friendly. Though Jareth perceived she noticed no difference, once they were alone again Sarah told him that he was exactly what she imagined a grandfather should be like, something her own had never been. With the initial barrier broken, Jareth had only a little difficulty in keeping her from closing herself in again. With the help of Marcus, who opened doors to a variety of conversations every time he returned to their table, Jareth learned more about the woman sitting before him and she became more comfortable with the idea of being in his presence.

"What I don't understand," he said, curious, "is why you had to take care of the situation on your own."

Sarah found the slight crease in his brow oddly, and mildly disturbingly, endearing. Repressing the urge to giggle, she said, "Well, it's my responsibility."

He raised an eyebrow. "You are studying there and it is your responsibility to take care of exploding sinks?"

She did giggle then. "Not exactly. It's my job. I'm an R.A."

"R.A."

"Resident Assistant. Full time authority figures in the form of students. Supposedly, since we're relatively the same age as the other residents, we are easier to relate to than non-students. We get to deal with all the personal problems residents have, as well as make sure the living environment is a safe and happy one. I don't think anyone would do it if they didn't give us free room and board. So, in exchange for free housing, we become the parents of the students living in the residence halls."

"And none of the other... R.A.'s were able to help you deal with this plumbing difficulty?"

"They probably would have if I had asked them, but at the time I had to act, not run for someone else to do it for me. If there were another R.A. assigned to my floor like there should be, it would have been easy to run down the hall. But as it happened, it would have taken too long to search the whole building. Well, come to think of it, Aggie - that's my best friend, Agnes. She's got the floor below mine - would have been easy enough to snag, but by this time I'm used to dealing with emergencies on my own."

"By this time?"

She nodded. "This is my fourth year as an R.A." He nodded at that, the rapid fire of questions ceasing for the moment as he fell silent. Her gaze travelled to his hands. He was leaning back in his chair, arms slightly stretched out to his wine glass on the table directly in front of him. He was slowly rolling the glass between his fingers, swirling the dark red liquid inside. She knew he could easily continue to do so for hours and never spill a drop. She knew as well that he was unaware he was doing it, so intently was he contemplating her. Just as he had been doing all night.

She suddenly realized that, for the first time that evening, being the object of such contemplation did not bring her discomfort. She still was not entirely sure what to make of it, but she had somehow come to accept it as simply being something he did. She had also stopped thinking of him only as 'The Goblin King, the man who took my brother and has me here for some strange and malicious reason'. Instead, he was more frequently simply 'Jareth'. She was distinctly dissatisfied and uncomfortable with that change of status. In part because it had happened at all, but more importantly, as told by the part she realized was gaining strength, because he would never be _simply_ anything to her. What he was beyond that, though, she was not ready to deal with.

Blinking, she noticed the vaguely hypnotic movement of Jareth's glass had stilled. She brought her eyes up to meet his.

"What did you mean when you said there should be another R.A. assigned to your floor?"

Though his scrutiny caught her off guard at first, she knew that had he seemed less than genuinely interested, asking his questions to be polite, she probably would have walked out long ago. However, she felt that he was attempting to discern something about her. As with most things dealing with him, she had no idea what it was. But she readily obliged him with the answers.

"Each floor usually has two. My first year at it they gave Aggie and I the same floor. But as it was only our second year at University, and they normally did not give the position to people that age, they had a third person as well. Now we've been doing it for so long, they gave each of us our own floors this year. Apparently there was a shortage of suitable applicants for positions, otherwise I'd probably be working with someone new on my floor and she'd have been stuck over in the Graduate residence. They actually came to her and begged her to take the position this year after telling her two months prior that she couldn't apply because she was no longer an Undergraduate. There are just under sixty students per floor, so it gets to be a madhouse at times."

"Your friend, Agnes, should not be an R.A.?"

"Not for the Undergraduate Hall. She finished her degree last year. When she figured out that it would take me a fifth year to finish mine, she enrolled in the year long Teaching Certification course this University offers and decided to live on campus in the Graduate Hall rather than get an apartment of her own. She said that she couldn't leave me to deal with all the high-strung underclassmen all on my own. That I would have to have some place to escape to. Little did we think that place would be one floor below me!"

Her eyes took on a distant look, as though she suddenly went somewhere deeply personal. Jareth loved the fact that she was being completely open with him. Had he been sure it would last, he might have been tempted to whisk her Underground right then. But he knew there would be more to winning his Sarah's heart and hand than a simple dinner. He also knew he would rather it be this way, else she would not be who she was. And, likely, she would not be for him.

"I honestly don't think I could have made it through these past few years without Aggie. As much as I enjoy it, I certainly wouldn't keep agreeing to it otherwise, it hasn't been all fun and games. Being away at University instead of at home, pursuing what I wish rather than what my father thinks is best has not gone down as well as it could have. Plus everything else that went on in my personal life, all the minor crisis I've had. She's kept me from throwing in the towel, from just giving up on it all, time and again."

"You would have given up?"

She knew he was referring to her stubborn determination in the Labyrinth. _Foolishly stubborn at times,_ she thought. But there was no malice in the question, no mocking like she may have expected. Honest surprise and curiosity, nothing more. But it gave her pause. "Well," she said after a moment of consideration, "I probably wouldn't have. But she definitely kept me relatively sane, as well as preventing me from throttling a few select people." She grinned sheepishly. "My temper has a short fuse when I am stressed out."

"Yes, I know," he murmured slowly, leaning forward.

His eyes locked on hers, she could not look away. Had she wanted to. There was something in his expression, something different but equally confusing. She was drawn to him. "Oh," she softly replied. "But how?"

"How?" He reached across the table, tucking an escaped strand of hair behind one of her ears in a gesture echoing one from the previous night. "I remember."

Her eyes widened marginally. "Oh," was all she could think to say.

Marcus stood on the edge of the scene. He was loath to interrupt them at such an obviously intimate moment. They had stopped talking, unless there was a world of information being shared through their eyes. It was definitely going well. After being in the business as long as he, one was able to tell almost instinctually. _Though, _he thought, _it could be going better._ While their admiration for each other was quite apparent, only Mr. King seemed to have accepted it. _Perhaps because he is just a bit older than she and thus having slightly more life experience, acceptance of such things comes more easily._ Miss Williams was hesitant for some reason, he guessed either due to a previous relationship going wrong or to a disagreement of some sort she had with Mr. King once upon a time. _Perhaps a combination of both?_ Additionally, neither seemed aware of the other's feelings. He sighed. _Ah, young things. I wonder how long it will take for them to see?_

He smiled to himself, hoping he would be privy to see the dynamic of their relationship change over time. For now, he contented himself to wait for this moment to pass before suggesting dessert. That decided, he moved to make a brief tour of the dining area to survey the satisfaction of his other customers.


	13. Wants Discovered

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Thirteen: Wants Discovered**

Marcus stood aside as Jareth helped Sarah into her coat then walked with them to the entrance. As Sarah paused to look at a painting hanging in the foyer, he turned to Jareth. "It was certainly a pleasure meeting you both. Perhaps you will return again soon?"

"Perhaps," Jareth offered. "It would depend on a few things, of course," he added under his breath.

Marcus glanced surreptitiously at Sarah, and gave a knowing nod. "Of course. Well should you decide to return, remember what I said earlier. If I am unavailable, simply mention your name and all will be taken care of." Though unsure of what, exactly, was meant by that comment, Jareth gave a small nod of consent. Marcus raised his voice slightly, directing his next comment toward Sarah. "I do hope you enjoyed the evening, Miss Williams."

Sarah smiled at him, once again unaware of the whispered conversation. "Yes, thank you. Everything was wonderful."

"Splendid, splendid." He opened the door for them. "Good night, Mr. King, Miss Williams."

"Good night, Marcus," she replied. Jareth merely nodded once again, this time adding a mild grin. At the bottom of the steps, she turned to face him. "Well," she began.

"It grows late," he interrupted, looking at the sky. "Would you allow me to escort you home? I would not leave you to face the dangers of the city if I can help it."

Sarah blinked, nodding mutely. Regardless of his somewhat odd and slightly archaic turns of phrases, she was constantly taken aback at the way he asked permission for things. Others she had been out with either assumed she desperately needed their protection even though she desperately wanted to be rid of them, or they left her alone in seedy parts of town. The fact that Jareth, of all people, would _ask_ was surprising. And touching. He gestured for her to lead the way, falling in step beside her when she did.

They caught the streetcar then walked to her dorm. The whole way, they traveled in silence, she not sure what to say, he simply enjoying her presence at his side. Finally they reached the steps leading to the front door of her building. She never really understood the point of them, there were only two and a slight incline would have been more logical. Still, the steps were there, and they walked to the landing. Large bushes lined the stairs and the walkway.

Sarah looked at Jareth. They stood in silence, he seemed to be waiting for her to say something, though she did not know what. She found herself caught in his smoldering gaze, unable to look away and unsure if she could handle the intensity. Abruptly, she turned away from him, one hand at her temple. "I don't know if I can do this."

In an automatic response to her seemingly random and foreboding statement, he schooled his features to show no emotion. "Do what, Sarah?" Though suddenly terrified at the possible answer, it was a question he felt compelled to ask.

"This." She made a rather large, encompassing gesture including the both of them. "You, here. After all these years. With me. Tonight was, oh, it was lovely. And I do not mean to imply that, in these past few days or months, you have said or done something wrong. But I..." She turned to look at him, her green eyes expressing a pain-filled confusion that tore at Jareth's heart. Still he met her gaze without moving, readying himself for the inevitable. Not wanting her to see the reaction when she would tell him to leave, his mask of indifference remained in place.

She shook her head, turning away again. Walking a few steps to the bushes, she plucked a single leaf and twirled it between her fingers. "I can't trust you, Jareth," she continued softly. "I wish I could, but... I can't. You," she threw up her hands and began pacing in front of him, "you took Toby. And I know that you did not do it unasked for, that _I_ asked for it to be done. Though I still think you should have known I did not mean it, I did ask. And then you kept changing the rules, and acting so, I don't know, cruel. As though nothing mattered. But all that I think I could have forgiven in time, I think I _have_ forgiven. Because I wanted it. Well, not really for you Toby to be taken away by Goblins, but everything else. Sort of. I mean, I did. And you gave it to me. But then you took it away. And I know you said those were the rules, but still. How do I know you won't do it again? That this all isn't actually another dream? Or just some sick joke on your part, making me feel like... only to crush that as well?"

Gradually, Jareth began to understand what she was telling him, not the words she was saying, but what lay beneath them.

She deliberately stopped two feet away from him and turned suddenly, looking at him, unconsciously pleading with her stance and expression. "You come here. _Now_. And you do all those things. And you are so..." She flicked one hand in his direction and looked him up and down. "So _you_. I don't understand it. I don't understand you, or what you are doing here, or what you want. What is it, Jareth? Why are you here? What do you want with me? Why are you just letting me ramble on and on and not saying anything at all?" Clearly embarrassed, she looked away, shoulders minutely slumped.

"Sarah." He took a step toward her, pretenses and masks fading for he knew he could have none with her if he had any hope to succeed.

Though she wanted him to do so, the interruption caught her off guard. Sarah looked up to find him directly before her, and found herself drawn into patient, gentle eyes. There was something in them she could not read, she did not understand. She opened her mouth to speak again, but, before she could, he lightly pressed the tip of one gloved finger against her lips.

"Is this what has been on your mind all night? Making you so nervous and jumpy at times?"

She nodded. "Well, that and the fact that you're-" Eyes widening at what she almost said, she blushed and looked down at her feet. "Never mind."

He placed his finger under her chin and gently tilted her face up so he could meet her eyes. "Sarah," he said again, quietly, "What I want is your trust. I want your friendship." _I want your heart. And I want you. _"But I know those things must be earned. For now, I only ask that you give me the chance. That is all." _For now._

She saw glimpses of insecurity and uncertainty flashing through, two emotions contradicting with his usually collected and controlled demeanor. Out of nowhere, it dawned on her that he was deeply afraid of something. "What are you afraid of, Jareth?"

"That you will tell me no," he replied simply, once again tucking a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear. "That you will tell me to go and not return."

"I don't want you to do that." As the words left her mouth, she began to realize how deeply the truth in them ran. Unsure what to make of that, and of the relief flickering in his eyes, her brow furrowed. "How do you manage to confuse the hell out of me at the same time as making everything seem so simple?"

He gave an elegant shrug. "I do not know. But rest assured it is completely unintentional."

Sarah found that comment surprisingly funny and could not stop her laughter. In turn, Jareth did not know what she found amusing. Still, the sound of her laugher was music, reassuring and calming. The moment passed all to quickly, after which neither of them were sure what to do or say.

"I have an early meeting tomorrow morning."

"Perhaps you should go inside then."

"Yeah, I guess so. I'm on duty all week, too."

"On duty?"

"I have to stay on campus, lock up the building and what not."

"Ah. It sounds rather time consuming."

"Yeah, I guess so," she said again.

He paused, not wanting to take the chance at sending things back a step, but needing to ask the question. "Sarah?"

"Hm?" She looked up at him, not quite sure what she was hoping he would ask.

"May I call on you again?"

She hesitated briefly. "I... I would like that."

"Thank you."

She nodded, worrying her lower lip. "Um, Jareth?"

"Yes, Sarah?"

"I can't promise anything."

"I am not asking for a promise."

"I know. But trusting you... it will take time, you know. And I don't know how long."

"I know," he murmured, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He cupped the side of her face and leaned closer. "Luckily, I have all the time in the world." He gently kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Sarah," he whispered, backing down the steps, fingertips slowly trailing across her cheek before he let his hand fall to his side.

She turned and unlocked and opened the front the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she found him watching her. "Good night, Jareth." He bowed slightly, then turned and walked down the path. She slipped inside, watching his retreating form through the glass as it disappeared around the corner and into the trees.


	14. Peeping Hot Chocolate

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Fourteen: Peeping Hot Chocolate**

On the ground floor of the dormitory was located a large common room. There, amid couches and beanbags, in front of the low quality widescreen television, lounged the majority of the dorm population. To have so many in the room was probably a fire code violation, but no one cared. Someone had dredged up a tattered, bootlegged copy of _Ziggy Stardust_, deciding it would work well enough for the movie of the night. Though only a handful of students were genuinely interested in watching it, the rest had nothing better to do (nothing better including, of course, papers due by 2 p.m. the next day). So there they sat, or slept as the case was for three or four.

Ironically, the handful of genuinely interested persons were not actually watching the film. They sat toward the back of the room near the double doors, which afforded them clear view of the foyer and stairwell. Any time the front doors opened and they heard someone enter, they leaned back as one to see who it could be.

The hours passed, and _Ziggy_ turned into a Pong tournament. Finally, as the second round was drawing to a close, the watchers saw a slightly dazed young woman make her way up the stairs. Kara grabbed Agnes by the shoulder and whispered, "She's back." Agnes, who was intently watching the little ball go back and forth on the screen, promptly screamed, bolted off her chair, and landed in a heap on the floor. All eyes turned to the lone figure of authority in the room, now sprawling gracelessly on the ground.

She eyed them back. "Hm... Interesting reaction. I'd best note this down." Thus said, she ran from the room, her fellow watchers exchanging innocently knowing looks. The others simply went back to the game as though nothing had happened. This was, after all, a normal occurrence when dealing with Agnes.

Sarah fumbled with the keys to her door. She was lost in thought and did not notice someone run up behind her, skid to a halt, and casually lean against the wall.

"Ground Control to Major Williams." Agnes grinned as a very startled Sarah jumped nearly as high as she herself had not two minutes before. Sarah, however, managed to remain on her feet.

Sarah blinked at her friend, willing her heart rate to slow down. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stuck the key in the lock. "Hey. Bowie high turned you into the Cheshire Cat or something?"

"Mm... definitely 'or something'. Though you missed a great turnout for _Ziggy_. Normally it gets boycotted after the first song."

"Must be a hand-in date tomorrow. Dare I ask what the 'or something' is?"

Agnes put her hand over her heart and pulled a wounded expression. "Ach, I am hurt that you need to ask. I should think it was obvious."

Sarah sighed good-naturedly. "I was hoping for the less obvious. My fridge, or yours?"

"Depends on the required provisions. Coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate with marshmallows? Ice cream? Stiff drink?"

"Hot chocolate. But I'm out."

"Ok. Pajama up, Corporal, we'll rendezvous on your couch in ten minutes."

"I wonder if I should be upset at being demoted. Wouldn't it be easier just to go down to yours? You have the better kettle. Besides, mine is probably still a soggy mess."

"No it isn't; you get to do my laundry this week. Plus all my mugs are dirty."

"Right," Sarah nodded, unsurprised Agnes had taken care of her room and the medium of payback had been decided. "See you in a bit."

"You've got to be kidding." Agnes was looking at Sarah as though she had grown a second head.

"Look, Hot Chocolate Talks without marshmallows is like a corporal crime or something. You don't have any, and these are the closest things I've got. Besides, they are made out of marshmallows. It says so right here on the box, see?" Sarah held out the small cellophane wrapped box to her friend.

"Yeah, but Peeps? They're covered in sugar!" Sarah shrugged in response, ripped open the packaging, and popped a yellow chick in each mug. Agnes looked at her askance. "I worry about you sometimes, Williams. You know this, right?"

"Without a doubt. But that's fine. Neon green with fuscia stripes or crickets with Santa hats?" In true dorm style, none of Sarah's dishes even remotely matched.

"Crickets." Taking the proffered mug, Agnes stretched out on Sarah's couch and blew on the steaming liquid. Sarah crouched by the stereo and plugged in a cd. She fiddled with the balance and volume for a good five minutes before Agnes finally lost patience. "Williams, enough already. It's loud enough and it sounds fine! Just sit down and tell me how it went!"

Sarah looked up, startled. Truth be told, she had gotten lost in thought and forgot Agnes was there. "Oh. Um. Well... What do you want to know?"

Agnes restrained herself from strangling her friend. "Are you doing this on purpose? Ok, I don't need a word for word recap, just a play by play in brief. You are obviously prepared to do a long night of contemplative analysis and, as your best friend, it is my duty to give you assistance."

Sarah giggled. "Duty, eh? Are you going to start singing that song from _Pirates of Penzance_?"

"Of course not! There is no orchestral track to support me. Though, if Kevin Klein is going to be my Pirate King..." This time, both erupted in giggles. After they calmed down, a summary of events proceeded.

When Sarah finished, Agnes was silent for a long moment before she sighed. "Wow." She swirled the dregs of her hot chocolate and half melted peep before tipping it all into her mouth in one fell swoop. "Wow," she said again, setting her mug down. "Ok, let me make sure I have this straight."

"Ok..."

"When you were fourteen, you met some guy _once_ who ended up hurting your feelings somehow to the point that you held it against him for years. And then he goes away, returning unannounced and uninvited, but apparently not unwanted, with the specific purpose of courting you?"

"Yeah..."

"And he definitely wants more than friendship?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure about that."

"And he is willing to take things as slowly as you are wanting to?"

"Uh huh."

"But you're still hung up on this thing he did and don't know if you can trust him?"

"Yeah, kind of..."

"But he knows about your hang-up and is okay with it?"

"So he says..."

Agnes paused, her brow furrowed. "Alright Williams. Answer me this. If you didn't have this hang-up of yours, would there be any problem?"

Sarah opened her mouth to say something then shut it again. In her mind, she played over everything she knew about Jareth, which, really, was not all that much. _He's the Goblin King. He does magic. He doesn't live in this world. He might not even be human. He _has_ to be way older than me, even if he doesn't look it. And he's the _Goblin King_. Would I be ok with all that? Well... _She opened her mouth to tell Agnes there would be a few problems, but what came out was, "No, none at all." She was mildly surprised to realize that her answer was the truth.

"Hm. Out of curiosity, what, exactly, did he _do_ to you all those years ago?"

"I... It's complicated."

"Sar," Agnes leaned closer, concern in her eyes. "He didn't... I mean... you know..."

Sarah's eyes widened as she realized what her best friend was asking. Or, trying to ask. "No, no, no. Nothing like that."

"Are you sure? You can tell me if he did, you know."

"No, honest. He didn't. If that was the case my 'hang-up' would definitely be something other than a 'hang-up'." Sarah sighed, trying to figure out how to explain what had happened without actually explaining what had happened. "Do you remember, all those years ago, when I told you about the dream I had of the man of my, well, dreams I guess?" Agnes nodded. "Well, this is him. Only I didn't dream him up, he really existed. Which means everything I dreamt about actually happen. Because I didn't really dream it, I just thought I did."

Agnes nodded again. "That happens. Read a case study once. Anyway, please expound."

"Ok. Basically, I had this huge crush on him. This was back before I got on well with my stepmother and brother. I was such a spoiled brat then. He made me realize that I was behaving like a child even as I demanded I be treated like an adult. At the time, I thought he was a real jerk about it. Really mean. Over time, that sort of went away. I still think he was being a jerk, and he acted just as spoiled as I did. But it was honestly the best way anyone could have got through to me. I never really forgave him for that. Even though he was right."

"But what does that have to do with you trusting him?"

"Well..." Sarah hesitated. _How do I explain this one?_ "He made me believe something ridiculous."

Agnes watched as Sarah blushed. _It isn't even her 'I'm lying, don't you see my ears turn red' blush, but her 'I find this horribly embarrassing, are you really going to make me tell you?' blush. Why yes, Sarah. What are best friends for?_ "And that something was?"

Sarah looked at the evilly innocent grin on her friend's face. "When I taught you how to do that, it was under the proviso that you would not use it against me."

"Wasn't in writing. Wouldn't sign it if it were. Well?"

"It's stupid."

"Try me."

Sarah groaned, grabbed a throw pillow and covered her face with it. Leaning back, she muttered something into it.

Agnes laughed, leaned over, and snatched the pillow. "What was that?"

"You are so mean to me."

"And you need to speak more clearly. Don't you remember our voice class? 'Diction, peanuts, diction!'"

Sarah laughed. "Ok, ok. He offered me my dreams. Anything, well, everything my heart desired."

"Dude. That's a strange thing to offer a fourteen-year-old."

"Yeah. But then he left and never came back."

"What, you actually expected him to grant that?"

"Well, yeah, but I told him no."

"You told him _no_?"

"Well, yeah. But only because he told me that if I said yes, he'd take Toby away and turn him into a Goblin."

"... And you believed him."

"Well, I guess... yeah." Sarah sounded rather sheepish.

"What were you o - no, wait. Never mind. You had this really strange sense of reality growing up."

"I did not!"

"Right. That's why when we were in fifth grade, you told the teacher you were late to class because you saw a pixie and _had_ to follow it to see where it went. You _swore_ it was true, and wouldn't retract the story even when sent to the Principal's office."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that."

"See? Strange sense of reality. Continue with the telling. Then what?"

"Well, I said no, and then he changed," _into an owl,_ "and he went away and didn't come back. A part of me wondered if it ever even happened. It was all so fast. And I was just a kid. And," she shrugged. "I don't know. I kind of thought he was in love with me. But if he was, wouldn't he have come back? So I had this huge trauma working through it, but I couldn't exactly tell anyone because would believe me? And now he _is_ back. And... and I don't... I just don't know."

"You met him only once and you thought he was in love with you?" Agnes' head was reeling.

Sarah shrugged again. "I told you, it's complicated."

"I don't doubt that. It doesn't make much sense, though I am sure in your precious head it is as clear as a bell." Agnes shrugged as well. She had known for years that her best friend was slightly mad. But that was part of what made Sarah who she was. "It sounds convoluted enough to still be explained away as a dream, too. Except it is almost _too_ strange to be so. Sounds like a fruitcake to me. Of course, so are you."

"Hey!"

Agnes was lost in wrapping her head around it all and did not acknowledge Sara's outburst. "Whatever it is, the fact remains that he has, in fact, returned. Presumably with an explanation as to why he crushed your young heart?"

"Um, because I wouldn't had accepted the truth if I had known. I was too young to understand."

"Hm..." Agnes gnawed on her lip, mulling it all over. _Well... all things considered, maybe it makes more sense than I first thought... Sweeps you off your teenage feet then leaves, inadvertently taking your illusions based on childish fantasies with him. Sounds like he was as interested in you then as he is now, which is a bit... weird. But then rather than take advantage of your vulnerability, especially considering how practically estranged you were from your family, and trying to shape you into some cookie-cutter shell, he leaves allowing you to grow and develop into your own person. He takes the chance that you'll fall in love with someone else and forget him completely knowing that is the only way you will become the woman you have inside you. Probably the woman he saw in you all those years ago._ Pausing in the train of thought, she marveled at how she came up with all of that. _Agnes, you are far too intelligent for normal society._ Absentmindedly, she picked up her mug and attempted to take a drink before remembering she had already finished the contents. "Alright, Williams, as strange as this whole thing has sounded, I will give you one thing."

"What's that?"

"The whole Peeps thing wasn't that bad of an idea. Refill?"

Throwing back her head and laughing with gusto, Sarah took Agnes' cup back to the 'kitchen' to make more hot chocolate. "Assuming I've satisfied your curiosity -"

"For the moment."

"Ok, for the moment, I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"Did you honestly get through the entire showing of _Ziggy_ without a single objection?"

"Yep." Agnes grinned.

"Will wonders never cease. The children are developing taste."

"Either that or we have finally succeeded in corrupting them."

Had anyone been around, they would have heard what could only be termed as evil cackling from Sarah's room as opposed to the normal hysterical laughter. However, everyone was still downstairs, eyes still glued to the little ball going back and forth and back again with dedication and focus found only in procrastinating students.


	15. Monday, Monday

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Fifteen: Monday, Monday**

Sarah struggled to unlock her door without dropping either her bag, which dangled heavily from her elbow, or the large package she had received, which was balancing precariously between her side and the wall. She almost dropped the box three times after nearly falling over three times from the weight of the books in her bag. The third time was equally disastrous, however, for in the attempt to keep herself, and all her things, relatively upright, she dropped her keys. Rolling her eyes heavenward, she uttered, "Stella!"

A Freshman walked by and looked at her, curiously. "I'm Tim."

"Yes, I know," she replied as she slowly lowered herself into a kneeling position, all the while wondering if she could pick up her keys and stand up again without dropping anything.

"Then why did you call me 'Stella'?"

Pausing mid-crouch, she looked at the young man and blinked a few times. With a sigh, she asked, "You've never seen _A Streetcar Named Desire_, have you?"

"Nope."

"Ah."

"Another one of those movie line things you do?"

"Well, movie, play text, yes. I suppose so."

"Oh." He stared at her for a few more seconds, watching as she resumed her descent. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to pick up my keys without dropping anything." _What the blazes does it look like I'm doing? Calisthenics?_

"Oh," he said again. "Well, catch you later." And with that, he loped down the hallway and up the stairs.

She paused again, this time blinking at the now empty space. "Thanks for offering to help," she muttered. "Boy drives me mad, he does."

Eventually, she reached the floor. After pondering her situation for a moment, she decided to simply put down the box and the bag and pick them up again after she unlocked the door. Well, hopefully be able to pick them up again. They were rather heavy, after all.

When she finally managed to unlock and open the door, she shoved the box inside with her foot and, grabbing the strap, dragged her bag in and flung it at her couch. Unfortunately, she missed by about a foot and it hit the floor with a loud crash. With a fully justified sigh of exasperation, Sarah knelt down and shoved the box closer to the couch. Once it was where she wanted it, she contemplated getting up and sitting on the couch where it was, without a doubt, more comfortable then the hard floor. Deciding it really was not worth the effort, she laid her head on the top of the box and closed her eyes, enjoying the silence of her room.

It had been one of those days. In spending all night chatting with Agnes until they both fell asleep in her front room, she had forgotten to make sure her alarm was set properly. Instead, it began blaring at 10 a.m. This would not have been a problem, as she did not have any classes before noon as a general rule. However, she had a meeting with one of her professors for today, a Monday morning of all times, at 10:15.

Vaulting out of the beanbag and into her bedroom in one giant leap accompanied by a shout that caused Agnes to fall off the couch in fright, she hit her alarm and got ready in two minutes. Grabbing her things, she rushed out the door calling to Agnes over her shoulder to lock up when she left.

Though she somehow made her appointment on time, her professor was five minutes late. He then spent the next ten skimming through her work in a silence infrequently punctuated with a dubious sounding, "Hm..." until she thought she would strangle him by the yellow and orange polka-dotted bow tie he wore ever day. His criticism on the essay consisted of an objection to every source she had cited as reference. She was then told to re-evaluate her methodology and "highly suggested" she reconsider her source material. Never mind that half the sources she _had_ used were all recommended by him in her first tutorial at the beginning of the semester.

She wondered if the whole situation would have rankled nearly as much if the class this essay was for were not, in her estimation at least, a complete waste of time. It was actually a 100 level class, one she had gotten waived at the end of her first year of college. It was not until the end of last semester, when she was finalizing registration for this semester, that she was told she was missing this required course and would not graduate without it. Apparently, the paperwork for waiving requirements had changed two weeks after she had gotten approval and two extra signatures were henceforth needed. She made her complaint in a raving fit of ire and consternation, proclaiming that as she had submitted the paperwork _before_ the change it should not have mattered. It had taken a full twenty minutes of "discussion" before the office workers finally admitted they had "misplaced" her initial paperwork and, as it was not available to be cross referenced to the information in the computer, the waiver was never finalized. The one time she had not made a copy. Gritting her teeth, she then asked why she was not informed of this missing requirement until now and if she could have the waiver paperwork, please. They told her it was too late in the process to get it waived and she would simply have to take the course.

It made no sense to her, to her advisor, or to anyone in the English department that she would have to take the class in her final semester, especially considering she had already taken numerous advanced level classes with this one as a pre-requisite. The office remained obstinate, however, and she was left with no option to enroll in a class she could likely have passed without once attending a lecture. Of course, attendance was mandatory, as were the handful of tutorials giving her guidance in writing an essay. Thus, months later, she was found spending her one free afternoon of the week in the Library looking for source material for the essay she had finished weeks earlier and was now, essentially, going to have to re-write.

In typical form, none of the books she wanted were on their appropriate shelves, assuming they had been shelved at all. According to the system, they were all miraculously checked in, but the efficiency of the Library workers was notorious for making sure nothing was where it was supposed to be at the moment when it was most needed. And, upon asking at the front desk, she was told all the books were on the appropriate shelves in that tone that dared her to contradict it, regardless of the fact she could see at least three of the ones she needed on the shelving cart behind the work-study who looked down at her arrogantly from where he stood in all his six-foot-five librarian glory.

By the time Sarah left the Library, she should have been on her way to dinner. It was not exactly a prospect she could often claim to look forward to, but between the meeting and the Library fiasco she had missed lunch. Though about to close, the Mail Room was on the way to the Dining Hall, so she stopped in to find a large package awaiting her there. At this point, she thought her day just might be looking up and opted for taking it back to the dorm before heading back up to the Caff. Between the books in her bag and whatever was in the box, the journey to her room became an increasing challenge. Huffing and puffing, she passed numerous people who _could_ have offered to help but did not. Though it should not have come as any surprise, it astounded her that the prospect of Marriott overrode common courtesy.

Thus she found herself sitting on the floor in her room with a box as a pillow, quite tired out and not really desiring to go back up the hill no matter how hungry she was. Her stomach gave a slight growl, however, in argument. Sighing once again, she sat up. "Ok, fine. I'll open my package and then go have dinner."

Sarah looked at the box. The sender's address had been covered with postage and her own address had been typed so she was not sure who had sent it. Going to her desk, she took out a pair of scissors and returned to the couch, pulling the box in front of her and cutting the tape open.

Packaging popcorn flew everywhere when she opened the flaps. After blowing at the one that landed in her hair until it fell out, she then scooped more out of the box and onto the floor to reveal whatever was inside. Two boxes of Kraft Easy Mac 'n Cheese, three boxes of a variety of granola bars, a Costco sized tub of peanut butter, a box of instant oatmeal, a box of Stovetop Stuffing, a box of brownie mix, two boxes of cake mix (one chocolate, one yellow), three tubs of chocolate icing (one for each cake and one to eat with a spoon), a bag of chocolate chips, two boxes of instant hot chocolate (a good thing, considering Agnes' stock had been finished off early that morning), a bag of mini marshmallows, a Tupperware container full of chocolate chip cookies, a package of Oreos, a pair of neon pink socks, shoelaces with frogs on them, a letter from her stepmother, and card that looked like a ten-year-old had made it.

One had, in fact. She quickly made herself a bowl of mac and cheese and ate it while she read the card from her little brother. She smiled to herself, wondering if her handwriting had ever been that large and careful.

_Dear Sarah,_

_Mommy said I could write a letter for this package. How are you doing? I am doing good. Daddy and I took Merlin, Jr. for a walk yesterday and I got to hold the leash. But then it rained lots and we had to go home before we got too wet and would have to sit out in the garage._

_I miss you very much. When will you come home next? I think you should come soon and then you can make me a special snack and we can go to the attic and pretend we are going on a adventure and then you can tell me stories. I think that would be very nice. Do you think so too?_

_Love, Toby Williams_

_P.S. I hope you like the socks. I picked them out myself. They are very pink, but they were the only pink ones at the store. And I thought you would like to have pink socks because you are a girl._

She could not help it, she laughed until her sides hurt. "Oh, Toby. What would I do without you?" she mused aloud. Closing the card again, she then picked up the letter from Alison. Scarfing two granola bars and a handful of marshmallows, she caught up on the news from home. Her stepmother somehow managed to fill three pages front and back with updates on events in the lives of the family and various neighbors without coming across as either boring or a gossip. Sarah was never quite sure how that one worked out.

Once she was finished reading, Sarah stacked the items from her care package and put them all away. Then she picked up the letter and the card. The letter went in a box on her desk with the rest of them. The card, however, deserved a place of honor on her tiny fridge that stood under one of the windows. She tacked it up with a magnet shaped like a kumquat, and then closed her eyes and stretched her neck, rolling her head back and forth. Feeling content and her mood considerably improved, she opened her eyes to gaze out the window at the tree, promptly giving a yelp of surprise at what she saw instead.

An owl was peering at her from where it perched amid the branches. In broad daylight.

There was silence for a good five minutes as Sarah stared at the owl. The owl stared back, equally silent, though it blinked now and again. Finally, Sarah found her voice. "Jareth?"

It blinked back. Sarah took that to mean yes.

"Um... what are you doing on the tree outside my window?" She wondered if her voice was coming across as calmly as she was hoping it would, thus belying the slight panic and confusion she was feeling at the moment.

The owl, Jareth, blinked again.

"Oh. Right. Owl. Can't talk." Her thoughts moved on to wondering why he did not just come in through the window the way he had once before. "Um... do you want to meet me downstairs?"

This time, the response was for him to fly away. "I guess I'll take that to mean yes as well," she muttered. Looking around at the mess of packaging popcorn strewn across her room, and then out the window again, Sarah threw her hands up in the air. "Monday. He had to come on a Monday." She then had a brief moment of panic as she could not find her keys before remembering she had not taken them out of the door. "Right. Let's go, feet," she said aloud, which caused a passing freshman couple to look at her askance, and she made her way down the stairs.


	16. Just A Stroll

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Sixteen: Just A Stroll**

Sarah was sitting on the front steps of her dormitory, concentrating on a small cube. She had it in her hands and was twisting it, lightly jingling the keys attached to it. Jareth smiled at the intensity of her look and was loath to disrupt her. However, his desire to speak with her overrode his desire to simply stand about all evening and watch her. Had he wished to do only that, he would not have needed to leave his castle. Indeed, it was his wish to move beyond mere watching that moved him to journey Aboveground in the first place.

Sarah had just gotten all of the yellow squares in their appropriate spots and was halfway through with the orange when a low cough startled her out of her concentration. She looked up to see Jareth standing before her, hands in the pockets of the light jacket he was wearing. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he was looking at her from behind dark sunglasses. He was wearing jeans again, looking quite natural in them for all that she had a hard time wrapping her head around such an idea.

"Did I keep you waiting long?" he asked her. Sarah merely shook her head, and he resisted the urge to chuckle at the lingering traces of wonder and bewilderment left in her eyes. "I transformed in the grove down the path. I thought it might be best not to simply appear on your doorstep."

That drew a wide smile. "True. I can just imagine the scandal that would have caused, especially depending on who saw you."

He grinned back at her, removed his sunglasses, and placed them in his jacket. Taking a step toward her, Jareth offered her a hand. "Would you care to join me for a stroll?"

Sarah nodded. _A stroll? I wonder if he realizes how excessively formal he is being._ She accepted his help to rise and once she was standing he released her hand. They walked in silence down the path leading toward the trees. Though the silence between them was not uncomfortable, Sarah found herself feeling slightly uneasy. She racked her brain for something to talk about. She said the first thing that came to mind. "I wasn't expecting to see you today."

"I noticed," Jareth chuckled. "I would have come in person, so to speak, but I did not think anyone who saw me sitting in the tree would have believed me to be inconspicuous."

She giggled. "Well, no. But I actually meant in general. Not that I mind," she added hastily. "I just was not... I mean, well... expecting it," she finished lamely.

"You did grant me permission to call on you again."

She looked up at him. "I-" she paused. "Oh."

When she did not continue, he glanced at her. A slight blush was appearing on her cheeks and she was deliberately focusing on her keys. "Oh?"

Sarah could feel herself getting warm. _He's staring. I know it._ "When you said 'call' I thought you meant, well, _call_. As in on the phone." When she heard Jareth chuckle, she glared at him. "You're laughing at me," she accused.

"Yes, I must admit I am." Amusement coated his voice in a rich, dark tone that sent shivers down Sarah's spine.

"Hmph."

He attempted a straight face. "There are not many telephones in the Underground."

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Not many?"

"Actually, there are none at all."

"Yes, well... That thought never really occurred to me."

"I noticed that as well." Sarah's sigh of exasperation only succeeding in causing Jareth to laugh even harder.

Realizing she had lost, and not desiring to lead herself right into further embarrassment, Sarah tried to change the topic. She could not get past the phone comment, however, and resorted to twisting her keychain in an unconscious nervous gesture.

Still smiling, Jareth caught himself staring at her again. _This is going to get you nowhere,_ he told himself._ Considering your justification for coming Aboveground again so soon was to speak with her, attempting to start a conversation in which you do not end up teasing her might be a good step._ The sense of it prompted him to say the first thing that came to mind: "What is that plastic thing on your keys?" He could have smacked himself in the forehead. _Aim for _intelligent_ conversation next time perhaps._

Sarah looked up at him and blinked then looked down at her keys. There were three different 'plastic things' of which he might have been speaking. "Um, which one?" she asked. Jareth did not answer right away and she looked up. He was no longer at her side, having stopped a few feet behind. He seemed to be momentarily distracted with giving the sky a slightly pained expression of disbelief. If she had not known better, she would have guessed that _he_ was embarrassed this time. "Jareth? Is... is something wrong?"

Roused from his disgruntled thoughts, he brought his gaze to meet her own. She looked to be mildly concerned. "I'm sorry. What did you ask me?"

"I asked if something is wrong."

"No, before that," he said around a smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "And no, nothing is wrong."

"Hm." She gave him a look that clearly told him how much he baffled her. "Ok, then. I asked you which one."

"Which one?"

"Are you sure nothing is wrong? You seem rather distracted all of a sudden."

"No, no. I merely realized I may have said something ridiculous in an attempt at starting a conversation." He took a few steps forward to catch up with her and they continued walking. With a sigh, he added, "And at the risk of doing so once more, which one what?"

"Hm," she said again. Raising an eyebrow, she held up her keys.

"Ah. The cube. You were twisting it earlier on the stairs as well."

"It's a mini Rubik's Cube." At his response of a blank look, she went on. "It's a puzzle. Let me see if I can explain this one... Okay. There are six sides on a cube, right? On a Rubik's, each side has nine squares, so fifty-four squares total, and each square is one of six colors. The cube itself is sort of, um, mechanical I guess because it is made up of twenty-six mini-cubes stuck together to form the big one. The puzzle is to twist the sides in an attempt to get all nine squares of each color onto matching sides of the whole cube." She demonstrated once then offered it to Jareth. "According to some, the number of twists it takes corresponds with your level of intelligence. Or at least, if you can solve it _under_ a certain number, it is a sign of genius."

"I see." Taking it, he gave it an experimental twist. "Have you ever solved it?"

"Well, no. And I've had the stupid thing since I was a kid. Someone once tried to convince me to simply take the colored stickers off and solve it that way. Another offered to take it apart and put it together with the right colors in the right spots. But that just seems to defeat the purpose. And I refuse to look in the booklet for the cheat. I gave up on ever figuring out the trick to it, because there _is_ a trick to it, years ago and hadn't really bothered with it since. I mainly kept it on my keychain because it gives me something to do with my hands when I'm nervous. I can sit around and twist away without ever really looking at it since I'm not out to solve it. Aggie laughs that one day I'll solve it by accident and then mess it up again without ever knowing."

"And were you nervous when you were sitting on the steps earlier?"

"When I was - oh. Actually, no. A few weeks ago I thought I'd try again."

"Why?"

She gave an embarrassed chuckle and shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose you could say pure stubborn arrogance prompted it."

He looked at her quizzically. "I don't follow."

"Well... I was sitting in my room one afternoon and it caught my eye. And suddenly I thought, 'Hell, if I can solve a stupid labyrinth at the age of fourteen, then I can certainly figure out a stupid cube puzzle'." Once again, color flooded her cheeks. "Anyway, I figured I'd try again."

"Stupid labyrinth, hm?"

Though she heard no malice or offense in his tone, Sarah glanced sideways at Jareth. He was regarding her with an arched look, though amusement was still playing across all his features. She shrugged again and stuck her hands in her pockets, looking forward once more. "I was still mad at you at the time."

"Ah." He offered the keys back to her and she took them, half expecting to find the Cube solved when she looked at it. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction if he _had_, she looked around instead.

By this time, they had made it into the centre of a large, wooded park bisected by paths and trails. Technically, it belonged to the part of campus referred to as the Residential District, for the various halls were found at spread out points along the edge. With the exception of the Cross Country team members who could be found at any given time jogging around, and students who wanted to take the short route from halls on opposite sides when running late, people were rarely seen there. If they cut through the park at all, it was more frequently on the outer routes instead of the central areas.

When they turned the next bend, Sarah stopped. Jareth halted as well and turned to her, questioning with a look. She smiled at him. "This is one of my favorite spots," she explained as she walked off the path to one of the benches that edged the pond. "I have yet to figure out why they decided to make a pond out here, especially one with a fountain, considering hardly anyone comes out this way on a regular basis. Personally, I love it. But not many people seem to have my penchant for wandering around in the middle of parks all alone, I suppose." She sat on the bench and kicked her heels, looking out over the pond.

Jareth approached her to lean on the bench. Regarding her, he asked, "And what drew you out here, to this spot?"

She smiled wistfully. "The silence and solitude it offers, I suppose. There are not many places I can go to get away and be alone, especially on campus. If ever I have a problem, I know I can always talk to Aggie about it. But sometimes I just want to sit and think, not talk. After walking through these woods enough times, I figured out that this really is a great spot. It's out of the way enough that I won't be happened upon by people who would stop for small talk, but it's close enough that I could be found if anyone needs me that badly."

Turning to look at Jareth, she found his face nearby. He crouched behind the bench, elbows propped on the back and chin resting on folded hands. The intensity of his gaze, however, belied his casual demeanor. Suddenly caught in his eyes, Sarah lost whatever she intended to say next. The heavy, slow beating of her heart drowned out the ever-present sound of the fountain and, later, she would wonder if time had somehow managed to pause.

"Beep beep beep!" They both jumped when her pager went off. Sarah pulled it out from where it was clipped to her jeans and looked at it. She sighed heavily. "Duty calls, it seems."

With a smile Sarah thought was nearly wistful, Jareth stood. "Then I shall see you to your dorm." He gestured grandly in the direction of the path.

"Thank you," she said quietly as she rose as well. Side by side, not quite touching yet each hyper aware of the other's presence, Jareth walked Sarah back to her dorm.


	17. Theories On Footwear

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Seventeen: Theories On Footwear**

"Karma karma karma karma karma chameeeeeeeleooooon!"

Sarah poked her head out of her bedroom door. Her best friend was laying on the couch upside down, feet tapping on the wall and head hanging unseen below the table. She held a pillow in her hands and was dancing it across her knees while singing along to a CD at the top of her lungs. "Aggie? What _are_ you doing?" she asked with a giggle.

Agnes shrugged, nearly causing herself to slide off the couch. "Aah!" She hooked her heels on the back of the couch and somehow dragged herself further up. After much scooting, she ended up lying on her back. She turned her head to look at Sarah across the room. "Well, I just wanted to make sure I was in a good position to see you."

"See me? Through an oak coffee table? It is, I grant you, excessively chipped and beat up, but that doesn't make it transparent. What, did you gain Superman powers overnight or something?"

"Ok, so I couldn't see all of you. But I could see your feet."

"My feet."

"Yes."

"And this is important because...?"

"Because you are supposed to ask me which shoes you should wear, and what better angle to see them at than near the ground?"

Sitting at her desk, Sarah re-laced her shoes with the frog laces she received from her family. "But if you could not see the rest of me, how would you know which shoes would have been better?"

Reaching a hand out, Agnes grabbed a handful of Skittles from the bowl on the table. She looked at the variety in her hand and contemplated it briefly before dropping them in her mouth one by one. "Well," she said around the fruity mix that was getting stuck in her teeth, "you'd just have to tell me which clothes, exactly, you are wearing. Your Skittles are mildly stale, by the way."

"Uh huh. But how would you get the complete visual effect of said clothes without actually seeing the whole outfit put together?"

"Considering how long I have known you, and how frequently that we are in each other's closets, I would think that a simple description would suffice."

"And if I should choose to wear something that is not in either my closet or your closet? Something borrowed or, perhaps, brand new?"

"The fa - Man, I hate it when my teeth get stuck together. The fact still remains that you do possess some skill at painting a scene with words. Though my imagination is not nearly as over-active as yours, I do have some minor ability to visualize what I cannot see."

"Not the over-active imagination thing again," Sarah laughed.

"Yes. And I don't know why you always get so indignant when I tell you that. It isn't like it is anything new." Agnes sat up to grab another handful of Skittles and watched as Sarah put on her shoes. "You aren't even going to ask me, are you?"

"They're stale and stick her teeth together, but does she stop eating them? No. Anyway, ask you what?"

Agnes gave the wall a flat look. "Ask me what, she says. Williams, are you going out on a date?"

"Um, yes..."

"And isn't this date the second with your mysterious, secretly admiring, man of your dreams?"

Immediately, Sarah blushed. "Well..."

Agnes snorted, ignoring her friend's discomfort at her candid statement, and plowed on. "The correct answer is 'yes', but the judges will accept 'well' considering the circumstances. That being the case, do you mean to tell me that you are going to go out without asking me, your best friend, which shoes you should wear?"

Sarah looked down at her feet. "Is something wrong with these ones?"

"No, but -"

"But what? They're the ones I always wear with this outfit."

"Actually, they're the ones you always wear except for special occasions."

"They are not!"

Agnes sighed. "Ok, ok. They're the ones you have four identical, with the exception of color, pairs of that you wear on an everyday basis."

"Right."

"Williams, Williams, Williams." Agnes had adopted the patient, patronizing tone one only gets away with using on one's best friend or a new puppy. "Don't you think this date of yours deserves special occasion shoes?"

In return, Sarah gave Agnes a look that told her just how ridiculous she thought that statement was. "No."

"No?"

"That's right, no. It isn't as though we're going to the opera or hiking or anything. We're just going for a picnic."

_There she goes with that 'just' business again._ "Just because it is a more mundane event does not make it any less special. You should wear your funky sandals instead of your sneakers."

Sarah was fairly sure she was going to end up giving in to Agnes' logic and sense of fashion, but was rather curious as to what was the reasoning behind this shoe thing. "Why?"

"Because it is a sunny day and you have cute toes."

"Pardon?"

"You have cute toes. You should show them off when you get the chance."

Suddenly dreading the answer, Sarah asked again, "Why?"

"In case he has a thing for, you know, toes."

Sarah stared blankly into Agnes' innocent expression. There was silence for a long minute before the two of them burst out laughing. Shaking her head and rising to get her other pair of shoes, Sarah glanced at the window just as an owl landed on the tree outside. She barely restrained herself from yelping in surprise. _I'm going to have to explain to him how to use the courtesy phone outside the dorms to let me know he is here,_ she thought. Going back into her bedroom, she said, "All right, Aggie, point acknowledged. I'll wear the sandals. But then I'm off so you'll have to scram."

"Scram? Scram? Oh, that's harsh," Agnes said. She then began singing along to the chorus of the song that was currently playing. "Do you really want to hurt meee?"

Giggling once again, Sarah came back in the room. "Why are we listening to this again?"

"Mood music."

"Right. And the mood it is supposed to be building is...?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something. So where are you two meeting?"

"On the front steps."

"He's not coming up, eh?" Sarah shook her head. "Smart move. Too many people would poke their head's out their doors to catch a glimpse of him. When are you meeting?"

"In a few minutes or so."

"Not at a set time?"

"Yes and no. He said he'd get here at around noon, give or take a few."

"Oh. So how do you know you have to go meet him already if he hasn't come up yet?"

Sarah looked out the window at a once again empty tree. "Just a feeling I have, I guess."

"Hm." Grabbing a final handful of Skittles, Agnes got up from the couch and stretched. "I won't keep you, then, I guess. How irate will it make you if I decide to tag along?"

"_Tag along_?"

"Just to the front door. I think I need a bit of fresh air."

"You mean you want to meet him."

"Well, if he happens to be there while I'm still around, sure."

"You mean you'll wait until he gets there." Agnes grinned at Sarah's accusation. Sarah sighed. "Not yet, Aggie, ok? I'm still trying to get used to this whole idea of seeing him. Knowing Jareth will face the Best Friend Interrogation is not something I want to think about yet."

"Crikey, Williams. I don't intend to interrogate him today. I just want to find out what he looks like! You are incredibly vague with your descriptions of him." The nervous, pleading look in Sarah's eyes stopped Agnes from teasing her further. "But ok, I'll be patient for now." _Probably better this way, really. When I finally do get to meet him I'll know for sure that she's actually taking this seriously and not deluding herself that they're 'just' seeing where things go._

Sarah gave Agnes a grateful smile. "Thanks, Aggie."

"Yeah, yeah. Now scram yourself." She flicked her hands in the direction of the door. "I'll lock your door for you. Gotta get my tunes out of your stereo, anyway. And there are so many buttons on the thing that it'll probably take me ages." Laughing yet again, Sarah went on her way.


	18. Sunday At the Park

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Eighteen: Sunday In the Park**

It was a perfect spring day. The sun was shining brightly and fluffy clouds meandered across the sky casting their misshapen shadows upon the ground. The remainder of their picnic lunch was spread out on the blue and white checked cloth. Jareth lay on his side, propped up on one elbow. He lounged elegantly, exuding power and control while simultaneously appearing to be almost completely relaxed. Except, Sarah noted, for a small wrinkle that had appeared in the middle of his forehead as he furrowed his brow in concentration. For once, however, he was not focusing on Sarah. She in turn was taking full advantage of his inattention and the opportunity to simply study his character and countenance in person. Leaning against a tree, her eyes were half lidded and a smile played gently on her lips.

Though her gaze drifted all across him, her eyes were constantly drawn to his hands. Between his gloved fingers dangled Sarah's keys. He had commandeered them shortly after they had finished eating and fell silent as he contemplated the six multi-colored sides of her Rubik's Cube. It did not take long before he set himself to twisting and turning it.

When he began, Sarah assumed it would not take long before the puzzle was solved. In truth, when she had finally looked at it Monday evening she had been genuinely surprised that it had not been solved in the short time he had held it. Yet here he was, growing frustration slowly marring his features. He had seemed to be doing well enough with it at first, the colors swiftly slotting into place with an ease of which she had a difficult time not being envious. Yet at some point, he appeared to have got stuck.

From what she could tell, he was only a few squares away from completion. But every time he would get one of those squares on the correct side, he would turn the cube and a new square would be misplaced. She guessed that there was an easy solution to the problem, but that the more frustrated he became the more difficult it would be to see that solution. Wondering how long it would actually take him to figure it out, Sarah's smile grew.

Feeling strangely content, Sarah looked over the park to see who else was around. A large family on the other side was having a picnic as well. Snatches of 'Here Comes the Sun' could be picked up across the distance from where it played on their portable stereo. There were a bunch of kids on the swings, parents, elder siblings, and babysitters clustered around the picnic tables near the jungle gym. Taking up most of the field itself were five young men tossing a football around.

She recognized all of them, having gone to college with the lot. Edmund, the only one she had ever had direct contact with on a regular basis on account of Agnes, was the only one still attending as he was taking a fifth year to finish his degree as well. Three of the others, Rex, Nathan, and Herb, had graduated the previous year with Agnes. The fifth, Clark, had graduated her freshman year. However, the recognition acknowledged in the back of her mind, she brushed their presence aside in favor of continuing to enjoy the sight of Jareth, telling herself it was merely amusement at seeing him not having an immediate answer or solution to a problem that drew her constant attention. She did admit, however begrudgingly, that when he was not throwing her completely off her guard, he was rather adorable.

* * *

"Dude, check it out." One of the young men playing football threw it to another and pointed off to some point in the distance. "Isn't that chick over there the friend of that one girl you're into?"

Edmund glanced over his shoulder as he flipped the football in his hands. Sarah was leaning against a tree next to some blonde guy who was lying on the ground. "Yeah, looks like it. I wonder who she's with. Doesn't look like anyone I know, but then I can't actually see his face." The five young men gathered together in a mock-huddle. Though for all appearances they may have seemed to be discussing football strategy, the focus was less on the ball than it was on the couple in the distance.

"Sarah Williams, right?" mused the first. At Edmund's nod, he continued. "I bet that makes the guy this Mystery Man everyone's been buzzing over on campus."

"How did you know about that, Clark? You hardly ever turn up on campus since you graduated, and even when you do it is only for home football games."

"Shelby told me. Her younger sister, Kara, lives in the halls and told her the whole thing, including how he took her to Clancy's on their first date. I then got the story from Shel, along with a commentary on how romantic it all is."

"Oh, man, she's hinting. Better get her flowers or something," advised Herb.

Clark shook his head. "Nah, flowers wouldn't work since they won't be 'of the finest crystal ever seen'."

"Oh _that _guy," threw in Rex, accompanied by nods from the other two. Though the three had graduated already as well, they still had friends enough who attended to keep them abreast of any interesting news. "He has made life difficult for any guy who attempts to do something sweet in order to get a girl's attention."

Edmund snorted. "Obviously won't affect you any, Rex."

"Hey, it might!" he said defensively, his indignant expression growing as the other four laughed. "Shut up. Anyway, whatever the case, what are we going to do to him?"

"Do?" asked Clark, giving Rex a sideways look. "Just because he's apparently more romantic than nearly every male in the mortal world put together, why should we do anything to him?"

"No, no. Because he's putting the moves on Williams. She wasn't the most social butterfly when I was at school, far too busy studying than could possibly be healthy, but she always seemed like a nice girl. Gave everyone the time of day whether she had the time for it or not. And, according to Ed's missus-"

"Agnes isn't my missus."

"Whatever, Ed. We all know you're whipped, and she isn't even your girlfriend yet. Fool boy. As I was saying, according to Ed's missus, she deserves a 'prince among men' not 'some two-bit hack who wouldn't know what to do with a real woman if presented with one on a silver platter'."

That earned him a variety of looks from the others. After a moment of silence, Nathan voiced the question they all wanted the answer to. "Um, when did Agnes ever say that?"

Rex shrugged. "For a laugh, I tried to get her to put in a good word for me with Williams once and she nearly ripped my head off."

"When was this?" asked Edmund.

"Back in sophomore year. Shortly before she started seeing Sammuel, actually."

Edmund's face darkened. "Huh. She should have taken you seriously. Then maybe Sarah wouldn't have gotten involved with that ba-"

"Hang on," interrupted Clark, not really wanting to hear the litany of insults about to roll of Edmund's tongue. "This still doesn't explain why we should be doing something to him. He hasn't done anything swanky, just, well, showered her with gifts, took her to dinner, and appears to be having a picnic with her."

"Aren't all those flowers and things swanky enough? Probably only wants one thing." When he only received more incredulous looks, Rex sighed. "Ok, fine. But everyone knows what a hard time Sammuel gave her after their break-up, right?" The others nodded, Edmund more vehemently than the others. "Deserves better than that. Like I said before, she seems like a nice girl. Agnes is her best friend and is highly protective of her. Since Ed might as well be Agnes' boyfriend, and we're all Ed's crew, by default we are supposed to be equally protective of her. We should in the very least go check him out and make sure he isn't going to turn out to be another Sammuel, or isn't taking advantage of Williams' vulnerable state of rebound or something."

"That's one of the dumbest reasons I've ever heard for interfering with a date between two people you hardly know," stated Clark.

"Besides," Edmund added, "Agnes wouldn't agree with the reasoning."

"You're right. He's whipped," commented Herb.

"Well, I guess in the very least we could go say hi, offer to see if he wants to play a round with us, that sort of thing," suggested Nathan, scratching his head. "It would be the friendly thing to do since Ed here knows Sarah."

Clark rolled his eyes. "You're as bad as him." He gestured with his thumb toward Rex. "Just leave them alone. If you offer to play and he says yes then he'll be rude for leaving Sarah. And if he says no then-"

"Then he's probably a pansy and shouldn't be dating Sarah in the first place," finished Herb.

"Oh, there's no question about that. Any guy who pulls off romantic gestures like those flowers has to be a pansy to come up with it in the first place." Edmund and Clark groaned. "So, three against two, here's what we'll do." After Rex finished explaining his plan, they broke apart and took their positions.

"I can't believe I'm actually going along with this," Clark muttered to Edmund.

"You're telling me" came the reply. "Agnes is going to kill me."

* * *

"Eddie-boy, go long!" The shout from the field drew Sarah's attention. Looking up, she could see that the friendly game of catch had turned into something a bit more rambunctious. Edmund was running toward them, though he was looking over his shoulder at Rex. Rex, on the other hand, had just thrown the ball. As Edmund watched the ball fly up and over his head, one of the other boys yelled, "HEADS UP!"

Jareth was completely wrapped up in the puzzle. He knew he should have been engaging with Sarah and not her keychain, but the temptation of a puzzle waiting to be solved was too great a temptation to be resisted. Besides, when he picked it up to examine it, he did not think it would take him long. Much to his chagrin, it was taking much longer than he intended. As frustrating as such a realization was, he also found himself reluctant to actually solve it. On the edge of his awareness, he could feel Sarah's eyes on him, as well as her peaceful mood. Not wanting to spoil that, he resigned himself to continuing his current plan of attack on the puzzle, futile though it was.

Abruptly, the calm emanating from Sarah was replaced by surprise, and then fear. Instantly on his guard, he raised his eyes to her face, extending his senses further to encompass a wider area. Sarah's eyes had grown wide and she appeared to be frozen in place. Cringing, she was flattening herself against the tree. Her safety at the forefront of his mind, Jareth simply acted.

For Sarah, time seemed to slow once again as she watched the ball come hurtling directly toward her at great speed. She felt like a deer caught in headlights and tried to will her body to throw itself out of the way. At its reluctance to obey, she did the only other thing she could think of and closed her eyes, turning her head away and bracing herself for impact.

It never came. Instead, she felt herself being torn away from the tree and heard a soft, "phump." With it came the sound of people running over and skidding to a halt and a collective "Whoa." Reminding herself to breathe, she cracked an eye to see what had happened.

The five friends stood in shock, unsure what they had seen. The plan was for Edmund to run after the football and 'trip' onto the couple under the tree. Unexpectedly, Rex miscalculated and over threw the ball. As it spun through the air directly toward Sarah, Clark had yelled a warning, but it seemed she was unable to react. They all pelted toward her, knowing they would not reach her in time. The guy she was with had yet to move.

Then, at the last possible moment, it happened. None of them would have believed it possible for anyone to move that fast. With the fluidity and agility of a cat, he sprang from the ground and snatched Sarah away from the tree with one arm, cradling her to his chest in a protective gesture. The look in his eyes as he scanned the area for danger was nearly feral, daring anyone to come after that which he held. But what had impressed the five most of all was that, even having removed Sarah from the path of harm, he still had reached out one hand to pluck the football from the air with the nonchalant ease of an afterthought.


	19. Ball Games and Boy Friends

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Nineteen: Ball Games and Boy Friends**

Sarah did not move. Not that Jareth would have allowed her to if she tried, it seemed. He held her with only one arm, snaked around and up her back, his hand buried in her hair. She had the strangest feeling that she would not be moved, he would not let go even if something should attempt to drag her away forcibly. In fact, it felt as though she was standing against a statue, he was so still and solid. The only indications otherwise were the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the warmth emanating from his body, and the tiny circular motions of his thumb against the nape of her neck. She stoically tried to ignore the tingling sensations cascading down her spine, as well as the other completely illogical and irrational thoughts running through her mind.

Not wanting to focus on that too much, she stared instead at the five, sheepish looking, young men who were staring back and Jareth and herself. If she had not just received such a scare at nearly being pummeled by a football, she would have found their slack jaws and slightly bulging eyes rather amusing. Listening to the rhythm of Jareth's breathing, Sarah finally began to calm down.

She sighed heavily, realizing that the only way to get out of this awkward situation was probably to simply ignore it. Before she could do anything about that, however, Jareth interrupted her thoughts. "Is all well?" His low voice at a near whisper, it likely did not travel farther than her own ears. She tilted her head back a bit to look up at him and found him regarding her, concern only mildly evident in his eyes. Otherwise, his demeanor exhibited cold indifference.

It surprised her more that his lack of reaction did _not_ surprise her than anything else. Yet had he behaved in a more frantic manner she knew it would have seemed affected at best. Not quite knowing what to say in general, she nodded. He gave a nearly imperceptible nod in return then relaxed. As he released her, he trailed his fingers through her hair, once more tucking it behind her ear. The intimacy of the scene was disrupted when, at the sound of uncomfortable coughing, Sarah remembered that they were not alone.

Turning, she faced out once more. After another long minute of silence, Sarah found her voice. "Hello boys."

"Um... Hey Sarah." Edmund was the only one who actually spoke; the other four merely gave embarrassed half waves. "How's it going?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he winced.

"Oh, not bad, considering. What are you guys up to?"

Edmund was fully aware he had not heard the end of this. In fact he could already hear Agnes' lecture. However, he took the cue that they were to overlook what had just happened for the moment. "Well, you know. Just playing some ball."

"Of course."

"Friends of yours, Sarah?"

Once again, chills spiraled down Sarah's back as Jareth spoke low against her ear. "Er, yeah sure." She gestured at each in turn. "That's Edmund, Rex, Herb, Nathan, and Clark. Guys, this is Jareth." As the usual pleasantries were exchanged, Sarah noted everyone's behavior with amusement. Edmund looked as though he wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up in a pit at the same time as attempting, and failing, to be subtle about sizing Jareth up. _I wonder how much of this I should tell Aggie,_ she thought. Rex, Herb, and Nathan had adopted the mannerisms of teenage boys trying to demonstrate their maturity and masculinity in the presence of someone who played sports on the professional level. There was something else too, as though they were attempting to let Jareth know who the real men were, apparently thinking all the while they were pulling it off though it was obvious they were completely out of their league. If it had not been such an odd thing for them to do, she probably would have found it even funnier.

Clark and Jareth were the only ones behaving like normal human beings, though she supposed in Jareth's case such an assessment was completely relative. She suspected this was due to neither having anything to prove.

Clark was at least three years older than she and the other boys and really had no relationship to her beyond the briefest acquaintance years ago. His sense of self worth would have no basis on the opinions of someone so unconnected to him as she and a man he had only just met. Not that the others had any greater connection, really, for she knew them only as being friends with Agnes. She wondered if that had anything to do with their behavior, as well as what Agnes may have told them all.

As for Jareth, he was merely being himself. Though he seemed to have toned down quite a bit. She was moderately surprised at his openness and congeniality toward them, having half expecting him to do his 'I am the Goblin King; be intimidated by me' thing to them after they nearly hit her in the face. She knew that she would have been terribly affronted at his apparent indifference and lack of concern had she not known that, inside, he was still at least partially seething. She was slightly stunned at the realization she would swear this to be true with great conviction. Additionally, it was based on nothing beyond her thinking she could feel what he was feeling. Before she could carry the thought further, however, she was drawn out of her musings at the sound of her name.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked. Jareth broke out into a half smirk inspiring a great desire to kick him in the shin.

"I just said that, seeing as you're done eating and all," Rex told her, "you probably wouldn't mind if we grab Jareth here for a quick game."

"Yeah," added Herb. "That way we have even numbers."

A quick glance at the others showed Edmund avoiding her gaze, Clark shaking his head ruefully, Nathan looking eager, and Jareth bemused. "You play football?" she asked him.

He shrugged elegantly. "Actually, no. I never have."

"Never?" Nathan sounded shocked. "You're kidding."

"Wow, dude. You should have. The way you caught the ball earlier, you're a natural," put in Rex.

"Oh wait, you're English or something, right? You probably only played soccer, not _real_ football." At Herb's contribution, Edmund groaned and Clark appeared to be having difficulty refraining from laughing. Jareth raised an eyebrow.

Sarah nodded slowly. "I get it. This is one of those male things where you have to prove yourselves through a demonstration of athletic ability because of some sort of feeling that if left to other devices you will find yourself intimidated and insecure. Well, just as long as it is only that and not some paltry attempt at expressing the over-protective big brother syndrome inherent in males toward their female friends, especially considering we hardly know each other well enough to merit such behavior that is neither welcome nor required in any case, then by all means go ahead. Assuming he wants to, of course."

There was a pause as Jareth's smirk widened and the others stared at her, sputtering, then Clark burst out laughing. "You're all right, Sarah Williams," he told her, pointing at her before turning to Edmund. "You know, if everything you've told me about your not-girlfriend is true, it's no wonder they're good friends."

"Her name's Agnes," Edmund muttered. "And she is not my girlfriend."

If Edmund intended to stop Clark's laughter, he was far from successful. "That's what I said. Your not-girlfriend."

"I can't believe she said that, man," Rex was saying to Herb. "Like we'd ever do anything like that."

"But I thought-" Herb was cut off when Rex elbowed him in the side. "Ow."

"Forget it," Nathan told them. "So," he asked Jareth, "are you in? Just a quick game is all."

Jareth threw a questioning look at Sarah. While the others interpreted this as something akin to asking her permission, she saw it instead as his way of asking if this was some sort of ritual required in order to gain _her_ approval. Not quite sure where that conclusion came from, and not really caring either, Sarah just laughed and shook her head. "Oh whatever. I'll just watch. From here. And hope there is an improvement in aim." Clark still laughing uproariously and the others sputtering once more, the guys jogged out to the field. Jareth hesitated another moment before inclining his head toward her, a mysterious smile playing on his lips as he followed the others sedately.

If someone had told her when she first met Jareth that she would one day be sitting back watching him toss a football around with some guys she went to college with, she would have suggested they seek professional help. She would have done the same if the comment had been made an hour ago. And yet, there he was, looking for all the world as though this were an everyday occurrence. All the same, she was still having a hard time believing it to actually be happening. _It's_ Jareth_, for crying out loud, _she thought. _The Goblin King. He's... he's... Well, to be fair, I don't actually know _what_ he is, but a football player would have been the furthest thing from my mind. He isn't even built like one. He's more... more... Hm, what _is_ he built like?_ She watched as he loped gracefully across the field, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun with one hand and reaching out to catch the football with the other. The release came almost instantly, she was not quite sure if he had even looked to see where Clark was standing before throwing it in his direction. Sarah really did not know all that much about football, but she knew enough to guess that his throw was perfect in form as well as accuracy. _Sheesh, is there anything that man _can't_ do?_

Her eyes drifted to her keys where they lay abandoned on the picnic blanket. A slow grin spread across her face. "Apparently _you_ have proven to be quite the challenge," she told the Rubik's cube as she leaned over and picked it up. As she looked it over, marveling at how close it was to finally being done, a mischievous gleam came into her eyes. _Sarah, you really shouldn't do that,_ she told herself as she began returning the puzzle to a completely unsolved state. _It isn't nice._ But the memory of Jareth working toward a solution played again in her mind. She lifted her gaze from the cube in her hands back to Jareth out on the field.

He was standing relatively close to Edmund and Clark and they appeared to be having a conversation about something. From the gestures, she assumed it was either some sort of tactical huddle, or they were making fun of the other three who had apparently forgotten the game and were currently showing off to a handful of young women walking by. They were making such an effort that even members the family across the field were pointing in their direction and laughing. She watched as one of the uninterested members snuck over to the stereo and changed the music to what sounded like Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong's recording of _Porgy and Bess_. As soon as the first chords played, the others snapped to attention and made to correct this change. The whole scene set Sarah off into a fit of giggles.

The sound drew Jareth's attention. He glanced over his shoulder and found Sarah leaning against the tree again, her hands over her mouth in an attempt to quiet her laughter. Even from the distance, he could see the joyous glimmer in her eyes. Another mysterious smile graced his features.

"So, Jareth," Clark comment, nonchalantly, "see something you like over there?"

"I beg your pardon?" Jareth asked sharply, turning back to the others. In doing so, he found Clark and Edmund exchanging a smirk. Instantly, he realized he was being mocked. Though he tolerated, on occasion, such behavior from the High King and Queen and, much to his surprise, enjoyed it when coming from Sarah, not since his youth had he accepted or even experienced such a thing from anyone else. In that same instant, Jareth knew that should he react as he was wont to do, any number of problems would likely arise. Under normal circumstances, such problems would bear little weight on his decisions. However, he was uncertain about how deep Sarah's acquaintanceship with these five young men went. From her earlier remark, he could assume it was little more than casual. And yet, this Edmund appeared to have some sort of connection to Agnes, Sarah's best friend. Instinctively, Jareth knew better than to disturb even the most tenuous of links as far as Sarah was concerned. If nothing else, insulting her friends would certainly not gain him the favor he so desired. Therefore, Jareth did not respond with threats or haughty commands. Instead, and without missing a beat, he simply said loftily, "No, of course not."

The two friends exchanged another look, this time one of obvious disbelief. The subtext of Jareth's now mildly wicked smile, which underlined the indifferent tone of his words, was not lost on either of them. "You know, Clark," began Edmund, "one look at him and I begin to fear for Sarah's virtue."

"Oh, most definitely," agreed Clark, pointedly ignoring Jareth's look of mild disbelief. "I have the highest suspicion that this is merely the beginning of some sort of grand scheme."

"Mm. So what's the deal, Jareth?"

Raising an eyebrow, Jareth took a chance. "My plan? My plan is to steal her away to another land, keeping her there in a castle until the end of time."

Clark snorted. "Sure. And that makes you the evil wizard-"

"Well," interrupted Jareth with a flip of one hand, "Goblin King."

"Oh, sorry. My bad. The 'Goblin King'. What happens at the castle? You lock her in a tower and ravage her at your will?"

"Not exactly."

"No?" Edmund looked highly amused.

"Towers do tend to be rather drafty, after all." Jareth met their stares with a carefully schooled blank expression.

After the briefest of pauses, Edmund let out a short laugh. "Hah!" he barked. "You're not bad, Jareth. And I think I'm beginning to see what caught our Sarah's attention. I'd be careful, though. She may well give you a run for your money."

"I hardly expect anything less." This was, without a doubt, one of the strangest conversations he had ever had. He wondered vaguely if all young Mortal males reacted thus when meeting the suitors of their female friends.

"HIKE!" Herb's shout distracted them from the enlightening conversation and, once again, Jareth merely reached out a hand to snatch the ball from the air.

Clark looked at Jareth with wonder. "You sure you've never played football, man?"

"Quite."

He shrugged. "Way unfair, dude. Oh well. One more round, yeah?"

* * *

Sarah watched as Rex went down on both knees, pleading with the football in his hands. She guessed he was asking for a phone number, or perhaps merely a name, but was meeting with little success. As the young women all gave one last shake of their heads, giggling like bubbleheads, they walked away. Rex fell to the ground, dramatically wallowing in rejection, and Herb took advantage of his distraction to snatch the football away. With a shout, he tossed it across the field in the direction of the other three. With the same grace and agility he had shown all afternoon, Jareth caught the ball. As the game picked up once more, Edmund turned to her and gestured as if to ask permission to continue. With a sigh and another laugh, Sarah nodded and leaned back against the tree again.

The fancy game of catch progressed and Sarah diverted her attention from the players to her toes. Legs stretched out before her, her feet lay in the sun. As she wiggled her toes, a shadow fell across them. Looking up, her eyes widened in surprise. "Sammuel?"


	20. Painful Reminders

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Twenty: Painful Reminders**

Sammuel stood before his ex-girlfriend, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking down at her sullenly. "Hey, Wills."

Sarah resisted the urge to wince at his use of the nickname she had long since ceased to enjoy hearing spill off his tongue. She had been dreading any contact with Sammuel since the last time they spoke, not entirely certain how either of them would react. Their break-up had been a messy one, with Sammuel refusing to acknowledge the finality of it for weeks. After not speaking with him for a couple of months now, she had been under the impression he had, at last, been able to accept it. Regardless, she was not sure if she was ready to interact with him on any level, no matter how casual. She certainly had not wanted that first encounter after parting to take place while on a date with someone else. However, for all her misgivings, Sarah found herself feeling strangely calm. "Hi," she replied. "What are you doing here?" The inquiry was one of small talk, said without malice or bitterness, and as inconsequential as asking after the weather.

His answer set quiet warning bells ringing in the back of her mind. "I was on campus and I overheard some girls say you would be here for the afternoon. I wanted to come find you. I think we need to talk."

Sarah sighed heavily, pulling her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs in an unconscious gesture of self-protection. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Not even unfinished business?" His tone was almost flat, almost successful in covering some underlying emotion. Though she could not identify precisely what that emotion was, it grated on her nerves.

"What unfinished business? I gave you all your stuff back. I made it clear that our relationship is over. What else is there?"

"Don't you think you at least owe me an explanation? Two and a half years, Wills, then you decide that's it and I'm supposed to just accept it?"

She did not quite know if she was truly up to having this conversation that had barely begun, but she _did_ know that she dearly wished for it to be over. Trying to bank the embers waiting to ignite her temper, she steeled herself for the inevitable. "I _have_ explained it, Sammuel. Numerous times, in fact. Why should I repeat it again? Why should you stand there and begin the same argument we've had over and over? There's nothing left to say. Let it go." She turned away from him, beginning to pack what was left of the picnic.

"That's it?" His pleading tone was on the verge of whining, threatening to push Sarah over the edge.

"What else do you want me to say, Sammuel? Hm? What have I been unclear about, exactly? What about this could you possibly not understand?" As her control over her temper ebbed away, Sarah punctuated each question by slamming various items into the basket. When he did not answer immediately, she rose abruptly and spun around to look straight into his eyes. "Well?" They stood there in silence for a full minute until Sammuel broke eye contact.

He took a step back and sighed. "Doesn't what we have mean anything to you? Isn't it worth trying to fix whatever you think went wrong?"

It cut Sarah deep to know that he still had to ask those questions. "I never meant to hurt you, you know. I know it sounds remarkably cliché, but it's true. I really cared about you once. But no matter what I told myself, how much I wanted to believe, how hard I tried, I finally realized it would never become what you wanted. That I could never truly give what you were always asking of me. There may have been a chance at the beginning, but our paths changed before that chance ever took root. And I didn't see it. I didn't want to see it. And that was my folly. But once I saw it, there was nothing you could have said or done to change my mind about what I needed to do. And nothing you could have said or done to change the fact that it is no longer there."

"But if it was there once-"

She cut him off. "Once, yes. But now... it's gone. It's over. Let it go, Sammuel. What we had was not terrible, you know. There were good memories. Happy memories. Please don't give me cause to regret them. To resent you."

He stood there staring at her, and she met him gaze for gaze. As quickly as it had come, her anger had faded to be replaced by the sorrow one feels when knowing the last thing ever intended has come to pass. She took a breath, not entirely certain what she planned to say, but he forestalled her when he spoke up.

"Oh, I see what this is, Sarah."

"You... you do?"

"Yes, of course. I'm not beyond being understanding. I completely get it now."

She looked at him, askance. The expression on his face made her wary for it was not one a person who just realized that the person he had been apparently pining after for months was definitely not going to return his affections. "You do?"

"Of _course_. It's obvious."

"It is?"

"I should have seen it before. I knew you couldn't possibly have _really_ lost interest in me. You're just starting to get stressed about graduation." He looked remarkably pleased with himself for having figured it out.

Sarah blinked at him mutely. Slowly, Sammuel's words sank into her brain and she could feel her blood begin boiling anew. "What?"

"I know, you're surprised it took me this long to get it. I am too, actually. But that doesn't matter. Look Wills, I know this is your last semester and you've got your papers due soon and it's getting to be that time where you need to make decisions about your future, but trust me. Breaking contact with people who know how to best get you through all this is not a good idea."

"_What?_" She could not possibly be hearing him right.

"Just focus on writing your papers, getting this done. We'll slow things down a little, I can back off a bit for a couple more months and then we can take things to the next level." Sarah stood there in shock, shaking her head as he continued to ramble on, making plans for her life. She could not believe his audacity at continuing to argue this situation at all. But what was worse, what rendered her incapable to respond was the fact that he was completely patronizing her, disregarding every word she had said as well as ignoring her independence, something that she had worked extremely hard to obtain. It was not long before the buzzing in her ears drowned out his voice, but still she could do naught but stand there and stare.

* * *

Jareth deftly caught the ball once again when he felt Sarah's mood change abruptly from amusement to annoyance. Instantly deciding he had neglected her long enough, he signaled to the others. Feeling vaguely as though he had just been subject to some strange, ritualistic Mortal test, and wondering at the very back of his mind if he had passed, he waited for the others to join him.

As the five young men neared, they could not help notice that, while they were all showing minor signs of the fatigue common after an afternoon full of running around, Jareth was as collected and unruffled as when they had begun. Rex was about to make yet another comment regarding Jareth's professed lack of previous sport activity when Edmund spoke up.

"What's up?" he asked.

_What's up... odd expression. _Aloud, Jareth replied smoothly, "While I have enjoyed the induction into this world of football, I believe it is time I return to Sarah. She grows impatient, I think." _And angry,_ he noted mentally with some concern.

"Yeah, you're probably right. We'll, uh, walk you back." They turned as a group to the opposite side of the field and could see in the distance that Sarah was not alone. "I wonder who she is talking to?" Edmond wondered aloud as they began walking.

"I cannot say." Jareth's eyes narrowed. Whoever it was, he had his back to them and, even with his enhanced and heightened eyesight, he could not identify the stranger. However, as Sarah's anger abruptly went away to be replaced by an odd wave of sadness and regret, he suddenly had a suspicion of whom it might be. "But whoever it is, he is upsetting her."

Herb looked at Jareth and back at the pair in the distance. "What makes you say that?"

"I can tell." His voice had hard and cold, his face impassive. He did not appear to change his stride, but the others found themselves speeding up to keep pace with him. The other three did not take much note of Jareth's change in demeanor, but Clark and Edmund exchanged a meaningful glance. It was as though he instantly went from being casual and moderately playful to a hunter with its enemy in sight. Once more, they were caught by the sheer power and charisma he was capable of exuding, combined with a strange wild undercurrent. Again, it was nearly feral, like a lone wolf with a hungry, angry gleam in its eyes.

Abruptly, Nathan cried out. "Hey! I think it's _Sammuel_!"

"Why that slimy little-" Edmund interrupted his own tirade with a sound of frustration. "I don't care what Agnes says," he muttered, "I'm calling him out." With that, Edmund began marching twice as fast as before. Jareth momentarily forgotten, the others sped up again in order to either hold back or back up their buddy as the need arose.

As they neared, they could hear the conversation being had. Though it was not so much a conversation as a lecture, with Sarah on the receiving end and looking as though she was about to have an apoplectic fit. Edmund had heard of her temper from Agnes, but none of them had ever been witness to it. She looked nearly ready to explode, and as they heard Sammuel's final words, they could understand why.

"Really, angel, all things considered, us breaking up right now isn't necessary since we'll just get back together again soon anyway. We both know this, after all. Trust me, I know what is best for you. So let's just drop the ridiculous charade, eh Wills?"

Abruptly, Sarah snapped out of her fury-induced daze. "My name," she spat, volume increasing with every word, "is Sarah. Sar-ah. _Not_ Wills, or angel, or anything else. _Sar-ah_. You lost the right to refer to me by nicknames or endearments the moment you chose to treat me with such little respect. I have tried to be nice to you about this, Sammuel. I have explained until I was blue in the face and then some. Yet you continue to disregard every word I say! This whole time I've been feeling guilty for hurting you, but now I find myself seriously questioning whether it was your heart I bruised or merely your ego and your pride." Thin lipped, her jaw clenched so tightly it hurt, Sarah shook her head in disgust and disbelief at the whole scene and, in doing so, caught sight of the approaching group. Suddenly nodding, she looked back at Sammuel as she snatched up the picnic basket. "You know what? This is stupid. And pointless. I am leaving. Don't follow me any more. Don't bother me any more. Just leave. Me. Alone." With that, she walked past him toward the group, her head held high.

Before she had taken two steps, however, Sammuel grabbed her arm in an effort at holding her back. She turned around, looking from his hand to his face with incredulity. Before she could even open her mouth, he spoke, his frustration evident. "Hang on just a minute there. You're right; this _is_ stupid. You are behaving like a spoiled child who isn't getting her way. Now you are going to listen to me until you understand!"

By this time, the others had reached a point where they could easily interfere. Edmund prepared to charge, no one intending to stop him. Unaware of the intentions of those behind her, Sarah managed to get her mouth open to tell him off again, though she was not entirely certain of what she would say. Yet none of them were given the chance to do anything.

"I suggest you rethink your intentions." Sammuel jumped and spun around. As he did not let go of Sarah's arm, instead gripping it tighter in his surprise, she was jerked forward slightly. Yanking her arm out of his grasp, she peered around him to look at the tree. The guys looked behind them, then at the tree, then at each other, and finally back at the tree once more.

Jareth leaned against it, his eyes narrowed. He stared at Sammuel, never wavering his gaze, never blinking. In return, Sammuel looked him up and down before asking, "Who are you?"

"Jareth." There was something about Jareth's tone that reminded those listening of one used when explaining to a five year old why he should not run while holding scissors, or perhaps not throw rocks at the neighbor's pit bull.

Apparently starting to feel vaguely uncomfortable, Sammuel grew even more cocky. "Right. Well, Jareth, I don't know who you think you are, but this really isn't any of your business."

"On the contrary, this is every bit my business."

"Oh really? And what makes you think that?"

"Sarah and I are, as you would say, seeing each other. In fact, we came here today together. And as long as we are together, she is under my protection. Her troubles are my troubles. And you, I believe, are most assuredly troubling her."

Sarah's eyebrows shot up at his comments. She was not sure if she appreciated his interference in such a personal matter, though there was something very sweet about his apparent intent to save the day. _Not,_ she thought with indignation, _that I _need_ anyone to save the day, of course. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself._

Oblivious to Sarah's current train of thought, Sammuel looked Jareth over once more. "Are you trying to tell me that you are her date or something?"

"No. I _am_ telling you, full stop." Sammuel's self-satisfied grin at the initial answer quickly disappeared. Jareth considered him for a moment. "Out of sheer curiosity, who might you be?"

"I'm Sammuel. Sarah's _boyfriend_."

Jareth was about to respond, but whatever he intended to say was lost forever as Sarah began shouting once more.

"For the LAST time, Sammuel, you are NOT my boyfriend! I am NOT your girlfriend! We are no longer together! For that matter, as far as you and I are concerned, there is no more 'we'!" Sarah's temper rose another notch and, in a last effort to put an end to the scene and be able to walk away with whatever shreds of dignity she could gather, she threw her hands in the air and muttered through gritted teeth, "Argh. Why do I even bother?"

Edmund stepped forward to offer his opinion, all the while glaring at Sammuel. "Because you're far too willing to give people the benefit of the doubt."

Rolling her eyes, Sarah rubbed her temples with one hand. "It was a rhetorical question, Edmund," she snapped.

At the discovery of an outlet for venting his own frustration, Sammuel picked up on the presence of these new participants with gusto. "Oh, look. It's Eddie and his posse," he said with another sneer.

"Ha. Ha. Funny man, you. Why don't you just scram? Leave Sarah alone."

"What _is_ this? Everybody Interfere In Sarah's Personal Life and Solve Her Problems For Her Day? Honestly," Sarah remarked to no one in particular, fairly certain no one was listening in any case. As she stood there shaking her head at the outrageousness of it all, however, she failed to notice Jareth's full attention was upon her once more, missing nothing.

He stood with his back against the tree, arms crossed in front of him. Edmund and Sammuel continued to argue with each other about Sarah. Clark stood at Edmund's shoulder, poised to intervene should things get out of hand. The other three clustered together, glaring at Sammuel and encouraging Edmund. Yet, Jareth paid them no heed. He scarcely acknowledged their presence deeming nothing as important at the woman standing before him, so close but still separated from him by an inconsequential Mortal argument.

For her part, Sarah watched helplessly as the scene unfolded in front of her. Though her anger at Sammuel had not yet abated, disbelief mingled closer as he and Edmund used this situation, used _her_ as the catalyst for their own confrontation. The animosity had been building between the two of them for years, though she honestly had no idea why it began in the first place. She and Agnes had spent many an evening speculating over the cause, for Edmund was surprisingly secretive on this issue no matter how much Agnes begged, pleaded, or connived for an answer. Regardless of what the initial cause was, however, Sarah would have suspected neither Edmund nor Sammuel as being capable of putting such venom in their words. Especially since they were still arguing over which of them had more reason to leave.

Disbelief turned to dismay as she realized things were only going to get worse, and she was once again flooded with a sense of guilt. What she felt guilty of she could not pinpoint, but she could not prevent the feeling from threatening to overwhelm her.

Belatedly, Jareth became aware of what was going on before him in detail. Mentally cursing himself for not having the foresight to suspect the other young men would likely step in as well, especially considering how ready they were to take stock of himself without any logical reasoning, he racked his brain for a way to remove Sarah from what was becoming an increasingly painful experience. Unfortunately, the one course of action he was dearly tempted to follow was not one that would be considered acceptable on any count.

"Stop." She meant to shout once more, but as the words left her mouth found she no longer had the energy. A wave of exhaustion swept over her, and she knew she could take no more. She was beyond hurt, beyond guilt, beyond anger. There was no bitterness, no frustration. She was simply utterly and completely tired. "Just... stop."

Just then, it appeared the two were to come to blows. Sammuel's last comment pushed Edmund one step too far and he lunged. Prepared for this, Clark grabbed hold of Edmund before he made contact. Ever helpful, Rex and Herb went for Sammuel instead. Sarah's eyes widened in horror and she took a hesitant step forward, not sure what she would be able to do if she stepped in now.

Though not directed at him in the least, Jareth winced at the look in her eyes. "Enough." He made no pretense at shouting; he did not need to. But with that one word, all movement stilled, for the command was sharp, cold, hard, and brooked no argument. Rex and Herb immediately dropped Sammuel's arms and Edmund relaxed, though Clark did not yet let him go. Jareth ignored them all once more. "Sarah?" The contrast between the two spoken words expressed a world of difference. This one was soft, tender, as gentle a caress as the warm spring breeze that carries the scent of newly bloomed flowers, yet bearing the weight of the deepest, most heartfelt concern.

Sarah's eyes rose to meet Jareth's, and in that moment she knew comfort and safety. Nothing that happened had changed; no words that were said were erased. But she knew she would not have to face the memory alone. "Please, take me away."

He crossed the short space between them, still not acknowledging the others as they parted to let him through. He stopped directly before her. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for a moment before stroking her jaw line to tilt her chin up a bit more. "Are you certain?" The words she had said fully granted him the right to take her wherever he wished and as she searched his eyes he knew she realized this. Though he had decided long before he ever came to her that he would not bring her back Underground without her explicit consent, it was not a matter they had yet discussed. Her response would carry more meaning than she could possibly understand yet, but he would wait for it.

At long last, she nodded, slowly. "I just," her voice was barely above a whisper, "I just want to go."

Jareth resisted the urge to sigh in relief, though he could not prevent a smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth. With his free hand, he gently removed the picnic basket from her tight grasp. Dropping the other, he reached behind to place it on the small of her back. "Then we shall go." As he exerted the briefest amount of pressure, she turned and, as they began walking away, Jareth dropped his arm to take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers.

The remaining six watched, in silence and in varying degrees of shock and surprise, as the couple disappeared around a clump of trees. As they vanished from sight, Sammuel began to understand that Sarah would never again be his. That, in truth, she never really was. And that, because of his own blindness and through his own actions, he likely lost any chance at salvaging her friendship. Without a word, he withdrew from the others and walked away as well, in the opposite direction.

Edmund caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, but turned away with a heavy sigh. "I am an ass," he muttered.

"Well," Clark replied as he finally let go to clasp his friend on the shoulder, "that's true. But in your defense we weren't much help. At least this guy of hers seems to have himself under control. Maybe what she needs is an older man." He shrugged.

Nathan looked at the two of them then exchanged bewildered glances with Herb and Rex. "Um, right. So are we gonna finish the game or what?"

Clark threw Nathan a blank look before glancing at his watch. "Nah. Shel and I have plans tonight. And you," he turned back to Edmund, "should probably go and tell that Agnes of yours what happened today before Sarah does."

Edmund winced. "Cripes. You're probably right, though she'll be pissed off at me either way, I'm sure. I'll catch you guys later." He jogged off to where he had dropped his things when they arrived before leaving the park as well.

"Aw, man. Why'd you ha- hey!" Nathan's complaint was cut short as Clark smacked him upside the head as he walked by. "What was that for, man?"

"For being an idiot. Pass it on to the other two."

Still rubbing his head, Nathan called after him. "Rematch? Next week?"

"Sure. Call me."

"Cool." He turned to the other two. "Think Edmund can get that Jareth guy's number from Sarah so he can join us?"

"Yeah, I-" Rex stopped mid-thought. "Hang on. It might depend on how mad Agnes is. We should probably wait a week or so just to make sure."

Nathan nodded. "Oh, good call."

Herb was nodding as well. "You know, speaking of that guy, Jareth... He might be a crystal-giving pansy, but he sure knows how to take charge of a situation. And catch a football."

The others agreed whole-heartedly, and they went back to their game.


	21. Misunderstandings and Assumptions

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Twenty-One: Misunderstandings and Assumptions**

They walked side by side, as close as they could get without touching, and in silence. Sarah was lost in thought, replaying the events of the afternoon over and over in her mind. For his part, Jareth was simply unsure of what to say, something of a novelty for him but an idea he supposed it would be best to get used to as time spent with Sarah increased. The silence, however, was not uncomfortable and did not need to be filled with meaningless small talk in order to pass the time.

It was a long walk back to campus, being as the park was in a completely different part of town, but Sarah knew the area well enough to take both all the shortcuts and all the ways to keep them from encountering many people. When they finally reached the campus, she turned to cut through the woods to the dorms.

When they reached the edge of the woods, her dorm in sight, Sarah finally spoke. "I, um, guess I owe you some sort of apology or explanation or something."

This caught Jareth by surprise. "For what?"

She looked sideways at him. "Well, for all that back there with the boys and... Sammuel."

"Ah. There is no need. It is perfectly understandable for you to have reacted as you did, and you are not to blame for the situation arising in the first place."

"But -"

"Sarah," Jareth stopped walking, turning her to look at him, "no buts. If anyone should apologize, it is I. I should not have left you in the first place."

"No. I mean, yes. I mean -" She cut herself off, shaking her head before trying again. "You don't understand. Sammuel and I were ... Well, we used to be a couple."

He watched as she resorted to pacing in agitation. "On the contrary, I do understand."

Though she heard him, his comment did not particularly register as she plowed on in her determination to say her piece, as well as her need to get things said. "And when we broke up... when I broke up with him... it was very, well, messy."

She was becoming more and more upset with each word, and he did not like it. "Yes, I know."

"And it was really hard and... and..."

"Painful."

"Yes. See, in regards to what was wanted out of the relationship, he and I were never really, I don't know, on -"

"The same page."

"Yes, exactly. And so, when it was over, we both, well -"

"Said unnecessary things."

"Right. Especially on his part they were very... hurtful. And considering what I did, I initially thought that -"

"That you deserved it. Yes, I know all about that. Though it is worth saying that such an idea is completely ridiculous. No matter what happened, there is no excuse for his disrespectful and deliberately cruel behavior." _There never is any excuse for deliberate cruelty, really._ "You deserve no less than genuine happiness, Sarah." _And I can give that to you, if you wish it._

She was even more flustered than before. "Oh, um, thanks. And I know that. Ab-about Sammuel, I mean. But, that's not the point." She shook her head again, still determined to stay on topic. "It still remains that... that..." Sarah's mind caught up to how the conversation had just played out. "Hang on. How did you know all that?"

He shrugged elegantly. "I saw it."

That made little sense to her. "You ... saw?"

"Yes."

"So, what, you were _there_?"

"No, of course not. I was watching through a crystal."

"Watching through a... You were _spying _on me? On me and _Sammuel_?"

Jareth was suddenly on the defensive against Sarah's unexpected burst of anger, and he disliked this almost as much as her being generally upset. "I wouldn't call it spying. I was simply watching, merely seeing how you were. Frankly, I couldn't care less about Sammuel." He could not say the name without a hint of a sneer, which Sarah did not catch.

"_Simply watching_? What, the whole time?"

"No, only when you seemed to be extremely upset."

"And how would you know whether I was upset?"

His answer came as a revelation to himself even as the words left his lips. "I just knew. I always knew. Same as I knew when you were extremely nervous, or extremely happy, or any other high emotion."

Sarah vaguely wondered in the back of her mind if she would be taking this a bit more calmly had she not already been extremely high strung in the first place. "For how long?"

Again, he shrugged. "Since you fought the Labyrinth."

"So, let me get this straight. Not only were you spying, excuse me, _watching_ me, for... _nine years_, but you were also, what, reading my mind as well to find out what I was thinking?"

Jareth could not see what the problem was and began to have a hard time controlling his own temper. The only thing keeping him in check was the knowledge that Sarah had already been through an extremely trying afternoon. "Don't be ridiculous. You have not granted me access to your thoughts."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Then how the hell did you know if I was upset?"

"I already told you. I. Just. Knew." He was speaking through clenched teeth and forcibly relaxed his jaw. "I do not know how or why, Sarah. For some reason after you returned Aboveground, any time you were upset, I knew. I did not know why, however, just that you were and the only way to find out was to look through my crystals."

_This is totally outrageous and... kind of weird. _"Did it never occur to you that what you would see was none of your business? That were maybe things you shouldn't have seen at all, certainly without asking permission first?"

"I promise you I never looked at anything truly, er," he coughed discreetly, "private."

"What happened with Sammuel _was_ private!"

"That is not quite what I meant. However, you were just now telling me about it."

Sarah refused to think on what else he may have meant by 'private'. "That's different! I'm _telling_ you. Voluntarily. Because _I _think you should know. Not because you think you should know."

"What difference does it make when I found out, or how? It doesn't change anything."

"Yes it does!"

"You cannot go back on what happened, nor can you take away what you felt."

"I am well aware of that."

"Then why does this bother you so much?"

She gave an exasperated sigh and pressed her forehead with the heel of one hand. "You have been consistently spying on me for the past nine years, never once thinking that you might want to ask first, and you can still ask why this bothers me?"

"That is not entirely true."

"No?"

"The first few times were inconsistent and sporadic more than anything else and spanning a few years, actually. It did not become a regular occurrence until you came here." He waved a hand to encompass the campus.

"You really don't understand why this is bothering me?" He shook his head. "Jareth. You," she paused as she searched for the right way to explain. "You were _watching_ me. And I didn't even know. It's almost like you have first hand knowledge on just about anything that has happened in my life that was important. And I... I don't even know what you know, what you've _seen_. You could very well know more about me than people I have told my - brief - life story to. Some things that have happened to me, or how I feel about them, I've never _told_ anyone. Not my family, not even Agnes. And... and you're telling me that you already _know_. How else am I supposed react to that?"

"But if these are things that went on in public, where I could have seen them happen had I been walking by, how can you argue that they are private things?"

"But you _weren't_ walking by! If you had been, I may have seen you as well and then had the option of telling you to go away. As it happened, there was no crystal or anything hovering over my shoulder for me to look at and go 'oh, someone is watching! What shall I do about it?'!"

Jareth considered. "I had not thought there would be an objection. It is common with us."

"Us?"

It was another unexpected question. "Yes, us. My kind." He paused before clarifying further, "Other Fae."

It had not occurred to Sarah that there might be more Jareths out there somewhere. "So, this watching business is completely _normal_ to you? Your," she faltered searching for the word, "people do this sort of thing regularly. And no one bats an eye."

"Yes." Yet again, there was that shrug. "It is how we know what each other is doing for we rarely converge in groups outside of formal occasions."

"So you could be walking down the stairs to your kitchen and eat an entire double chocolate cake and your neighbors could be sitting in their living rooms just watching you do it, and that doesn't bother you? You don't consider that to be an invasion of privacy?"

"Well of course _that_ would be. We never look in on each others' homes without specific invitation. In the Underground, anything that goes on outside one's home would never be considered anything but public. There are, I grant you, certain warding measures that can be taken when one does not wish to be seen."

"So ... you assumed that since there weren't any of these ... wards that I would not mind you ... watching me?"

"Yes."

"Magical wards?"

He thought for a moment what other sorts of wards there might be. "Yes."

"And I would have used these _magical_ wards how?"

Jareth was briefly silent. "I confess I had not considered that."

She pressed her hand against her forehead again, moving to rub her eyes as well. "Right." With a sigh, she stood there regarding him for a full minute processing everything he had just revealed. "So, you never watched anything that went on in my parents' house?"

"No. Well, except for the morning when I was required to ensure your remembrance of the Labyrinth would be as nothing more than a dream."

Sarah supposed she could let that instance slide, considering the circumstances. "And inside the dorms?"

"Never."

"What about last week when you were looking in my window? How did you know when I would be back?"

"I had been waiting on that branch all day."

"Then how did you know which room was mine?"

"I can trace my magic, and you have the roses in your bedroom window. There was a door leading from your bedroom to that other room you have, so I assumed you would eventually see me if I stayed outside it."

"What made you decide to sit outside my front room instead of my bedroom?" Sarah asked without thinking, then realized she probably did not want to know the answer.

"That would have been rude and, er," he actually had the grace to blush, "intrusive."

"Hm." She pondered him for another few seconds. He looked embarrassed and contrite, and he was not bothering to hide it behind a cool mask of indifference. "Well, this doesn't make everything ok, you know. I'm still not sure how I feel about this. But ... I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"And there is apparently a great deal I must yet learn about Mortals." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I apologize as well for intruding on your privacy. On my honor, it was unintentional."

It was her turn to grow embarrassed, though out of uncertainty as to how to react to the intensity in his eyes. She looked away, blushing. "I um, guess we should probably keep walking. Some residents might have seen us and are probably pressing their noses against their windows to see what is going on." She realized that this was admitting people did precisely what he did on a regular basis. "Not that I approve or appreciate it."

"Of course not." His voice was low, and amused, as he gestured for her to lead the way.

After reaching the steps, she turned to him. "Would you, um, like to come inside? It's too early for dinner, not that I could offer you anything even remotely appetizing, but we didn't have dessert and I have ice cream in my freezer." It was a feeble attempt in Sarah's estimation, but she wanted to offer some sort of truce. And she also did not want Jareth thinking she did not enjoy his company, for all that they had just had their first argument. This was a thought she brushed out of the front of her mind, however, for 'first' implied things she was not sure she could handle.

Jareth noted her still embarrassed state, but also took in the eagerness at her invitation, timidly expressed though it was. He knew he should not stay Aboveground much longer, but he knew he would not turn down an invitation at this moment for fear in disappointing he might give a wrong impression, no matter how vehemently he would state otherwise. "Yes, thank you."

Sarah could not prevent the gleeful smile from gracing her features. Indeed, she was scarcely aware of it as she unlocked the door and led the way to her room.


	22. Ice Cream and Interruptions

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Ice Cream and Interruptions**

Jareth lounged on the couch as he watched Sarah root through her freezer and pull out a plastic tub. She looked dubiously at it before slowly peeling back the lid and grimacing at what she saw.

"Wow. This has to be the worst case of freezer burn I've seen in a long time."

He was sure he had not heard her properly, for that statement made little sense to him. "Freezer _burn_?"

"What?" Sarah looked up and into Jareth's inquisitive gaze. "Oh. It's when something put in the freezer is there so long it gets covered with lots of fuzzy ice."

"_Fuzzy_ ice?"

She giggled and held the tub out for him to see. "Yep." He looked dubiously at it as well as she continued. "Basically, the ice cream is beyond a salvageable state. Sorry."

"That's quite all right. I did not particularly want any ice cream anyway."

Sarah looked mildly, though happily, scandalized. "Not want ice cream? That is almost as bad as not wanting chocolate chip cookies! I'm going to put this in my sink."

"I can't say that I've ever had chocolate chip cookies," he called after her as she disappeared momentarily in the other room. He heard a loud thump, making him wonder if she threw the tub in the sink and consider how heavy this ice cream with freezer burn and fuzzy ice must get to make such a noise. He then heard her swear lightly and a muffled comment about making a great mess.

"You're kidding, right?" she called to him. "About the cookies, I mean."

He saw her pass in front of the doorway, heard her open a drawer, and then saw her pass in front of the doorway again with a large towel in hand. "No. Though, to be honest, I never had ice cream before I tried it at Clancy's the other night."

She poked her head around the corner. "You've missed out," she told him gravely.

"I believe you." His response bore equal weight and she giggled again.

"I'll just be a second," she said before disappearing once more.

Jareth smiled at her mood. As they had gone up the numerous flights of stairs, she had grown increasingly nervous as though she was not entirely sure inviting him in was a good idea. A few times, they met people in the hallway. Everyone said hello politely, looked at him with wide eyes, and then could be heard running to one of the doors lining the hallways and banging on it as soon as they passed.

Once they got to her room and the door closed behind them, however, Sarah visibly relaxed. She asked him to excuse the mess, which was composed of a few neat piles of books and papers on the low table as well as puffy white things she called 'packaging popcorns' scattered here and there, and invited him to seat himself in the same breath. He chose the couch and sank so far into it that she burst out laughing at his shocked expression. She told him, with her head inside her fridge, that the couch was so old and so well used that it had lost pretty much all of its support. She apparently had re-stuffed the cushions herself so as to prevent the springs from being felt, but beyond that there was not much to be done for it. Still, he settled himself as well as he could and, in no time, found it to be rather comfortable.

When Sarah came back into the room, she leaned against the doorway to her bedroom and took in the picture Jareth made. At an initial glance, she would have guessed that no one would have pegged him to be the sort to willingly sit in a beat-up, second-hand sofa. Even though he was dressed like a person and not the Goblin King, he still exuded a sense of class and style that would have been more appropriate to a CEO's office rather than a dorm room. Yet, there he was, seated as though on a throne. _I suppose he doesn't know any other way to sit,_ she thought, smiling wide as she watched him flip through one of the books she had lying on the table.

He looked up at her and raised it so she could see the title, once again inquiry written on his face. "It's for my dastardly Literature class."

His eyebrow rose ever so slightly. "Dastardly?"

"Well, to be fair, it is not so much the class that is dastardly as the Professor. But that's the way it works. Only a couple more months to go and then I'll never have to see him again unless I choose to, I guess. But he's still quite dastardly."

He set the book back down on the pile. "And why is that?"

She shrugged. "He has a grudge against all students involved in the Drama program, and makes no secret about it. I could do without him, and without the course, but I won't graduate unless I pass, and he's the only one teaching it this semester. So I'm stuck."

"I see." Watching her cross the room, he slowly peeled off his gloves and set them atop his jacket where it lay on the arm of the couch.

When Sarah saw this, her eyes widened marginally. "You know," she said as she curled up on an equally used but better cared for armchair standing next to the couch, "I don't think I've ever seen you without your gloves on."

"That's true, you haven't."

"Why didn't you take them off before?"

Jareth considered how to explain it. "It's something of a custom among the Fae. Allowing for the physical contact of skin against skin signifies the change between a formal relationship and something more personal. "

"Oh." She thought about it for a moment. "How... Victorian."

"Pardon?"

"English historical period. They had all sorts of rules about going out in society. Big on what is and is not proper. There's even a whole book on etiquette."

"Ah." Again, he considered and gave her a sideways glance. "Though, for us, it is less about propriety and more about necessity."

"I don't understand."

"It has to do with the nature of Fae magic. Magic is all around, even here. There are those who are merely sensitive to it, others who can utilize it. With the Fae, it is part of our very being, woven into our existence."

"Ok."

"Because of this, when one Fae touches another, there can be an exchange of power, of thought, of... essence, I suppose you could say."

"And you can't control it?"

"Most of the time, yes, to great extent. And the Lesser Fae do not always feel so much of the effects. But when one Fae meets another, depending on ability, level of power, intent," _and apparently the will of the magic itself,_ "things happen."

"Wow. Sounds dangerous."

He smiled gently at her innocent concern, knowing she was only beginning to grasp the basic concept. _I wonder if you will ever truly comprehend what it means to touch a Fae as only another Fae can..._ "It can be. Which is why we wear gloves and bare as little skin as possible in company. When in full formal regalia, everyone wears a sort of magically enhanced makeup as well."

"Take no chances, I see."

"Yes. Although any more, most of the High Fae know better than to go around making skin contact with other Fae when unwanted. The consequences as relegated by the Court for doing so are grave. Only when there is a large group is it truly necessary, when things can have the potential to get out of control. Otherwise, it is more of a courtesy extended."

As she thought about what that meant, Sarah recalled something from her own brief visit to the Labyrinth. "But what about the Ball?"

"The Ball?"

"After," she paused, "after I ate the peach. You were the only person wearing gloves and everything." She thought briefly. "Though, everyone else was wearing a mask of some sort."

"Ah. I was the only Fae there. The other attendees were actually Goblins who had been bespelled to appear human. The masks they wore were reflections of their true faces."

"Oh." That thought was mind boggling, so she moved on. "And what about those who are not Fae at all?"

"You mean Mortals?" Jareth grinned again. "Humans, perhaps?"

"Well, yeah."

"Possibly nothing at this point, especially since we are not Underground where the magic is more pure. Unless, of course, I deliberately focus on it." His grin turned mischievous and suggestive. "Why, would you like to find out for sure?"

Sarah's eyes widened in surprise, but she met him gaze for gaze. He held out one hand to her, palm facing up, and she laughed in relief that this was all he meant. Suddenly, the need to demonstrate her trust in him came rushing to the forefront of her mind, though she had no idea from whence it came, and she immediately sobered. Meeting his eyes once more, she slowly reached out to place her fingertips into the centre of his palm.

Just before she made contact, however, someone pounded on her door.

Sarah jumped, withdrawing her hand as she spun in the chair to stare at the door. "Yes?"

The door opened and a young woman with short, curly, neon green hair poked her head around the corner. "Hey Sarah. Do you have the ke-" She broke off abruptly when she realized Sarah was not alone. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two people sitting in front of her. Sarah was seated in her regular chair, looking back at her expectantly and blushing like mad. But the man...

She had never seen him before. He was seated on the couch, leaning back and regarding her in such a way she was certain her character was being weighed in his mind. She was equally certain that, had it been anyone else, she would have been terribly offended. As it was, she could not help thinking that for this man to do so was nothing but the proper way of things. It helped, she supposed, that she found him to be the most attractive man she had ever seen in person, comparable with the heart throb superstars whose faces lined her dorm walls on posters. That he would be found in _her dormitory_ was quite a thrill. In the instinctive way known only known only to females, she instantly recognized that this man was not here on a matter of business, was not available to flirt with, would not have responded if had she tried even in jest, and was none other than the Mystery Man of Sarah's who had been speculated over in every bathroom, dorm room, and classroom for the past few months. All this information processed itself in the few seconds it took her to manage a strangled, "Sorry, am I interrupting?"

Sarah blinked, then grinned and shrugged. "Sort of, but it's fine. Um, Jareth, this is Caroline Johannsen, one of my Freshman residents. Caroline, this is Jareth... King."

"Hello," he said with the hint of a smile and a tiny nod.

His voice caught Caroline by surprise. _My word, he just rose at least ten notches on the Sexy Factor!_ She squeaked out a, "Hi," in response, simultaneously losing control of her body as her torso moved to get closer in order to shake his hand, while her hands remained glued to the side of the door and the door knob, respectively, and her legs turned to Jell-O. The result was that she started to fall over but ended up swinging from the door and hitting herself in the forehead with it.

Jareth and Sarah both moved to the edges of their seats and said, "Are you all right?" in unison, Jareth with genuine concern, Sarah plainly covering a desire to laugh.

"Yeah, yeah." Caroline responded, scrambling to her feet and shaking her curls out of her eyes. "I'm fine." She thought about being embarrassed, but decided she would never find out any information that way. "So, Jareth," she began, casually, but once more stopping as she could not think of anything to say.

"Yes?" he asked after a pause.

Caroline blinked at him, nodding as though he had just told her something rather profound. "Yeah, totally."

Jareth raised an eyebrow and looked from this rather odd young woman to Sarah, her face buried in her hands. "Hm..."

Sarah was still trying not to laugh. "Is there something you needed, Caroline?" she asked, peeking out from beneath her fingers.

"What?" Caroline looked at Sarah before remembering why she came, and deciding that it was not that important after all. "Yeah, but it doesn't matter. So, no, I guess. I'll, uh, catch you later, Sarah. Nice to meet you Jareth."

He waved as Sarah managed to get out a rather strangled, "Bye." Caroline nodded for a few seconds more before bolting out of the room. As the door shut with a bang, Sarah shook her head and turned to him. "The effect you have on people."

He blinked at her. "What?"

"From the moment you reappeared in my life, you have caused quite the stir. Thanks to the residential gossip chain, everyone and their mother knows about those crystal roses you gave me all those months ago. And everyone on campus, and I do mean _everyone_, has been aching to get a glimpse of you since word spread that you had actually appeared. Well, you saw the way everyone behaved in the hallway. And if they're female," she shrugged, "well, Caroline is a rather extreme example, but you get the general gist. And this is from people who have never seen you. They're all fascinated, you know, and are trying to figure out how to get one of their own. It's very much the Mr. Darcy effect."

He looked at her blankly before regarding the door. "Enjoying your company has the most unusual perks."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Well," he turned to face her once more, "I can't say that I've ever been the object of such a wide variety of interest and attention." He watched as Sarah's jaw dropped. Before he could say it was only a jest, she apparently could no longer contain her laughter. It was fairly contagious and he smiled in response. When she finally calmed down a bit, he asked, "Who is this Mr. Darcy? The name sounds familiar."

Her response was to burst out laughing again.

* * *

Agnes was sitting on her sofa determined to not chew her nails as she waited for Sarah to get back and come careening into her room. She had gotten off the phone with Edmund more than half an hour ago and was certain that doom was impending.

"Oh, I am going to murder them all if they so much as ruined this thing in the slightest for her," she muttered to the ceiling. "No, that would be too nice. I'll stake them down on ant hills and pour honey on them! Or, oh even better, I'll throw them in a pit of hyper Freshmen! Yes, that would be ideal."

Absorbed as she was with considering other possible ways of punishment, the knock on her door startled her off the couch. Her first thought as she picked herself off the ground was to wonder why Sarah was bothering to knock. She then concluded that it was _not_ Sarah at all, who would not have knocked in a moment of crisis.

"It's open!"

The door opened and Caroline Johannsen, who lived upstairs, bounded into the room, hopping on one foot in her excitement. "Oh my word! Aggie, you will NEVER guess who I just saw!"

Agnes was never one to fall into the Freshman enthusiasm for giggle fits over people who were seen. "Mick Jagger?"

Caroline gave Agnes a blank look. "Who?"

Agnes sighed. "You young'uns are in serious need of culture. I give up, who did you see?"

"Well, I needed to get into the custodial closet for some cleaning supplies and so I was looking for an R.A., right?"

"Uh huh..." Agnes wondered where this was leading and why Caroline could not hurry things along.

"So I walked down the hall and cause I heard someone mention she was in and everything. So I knocked, right? And she opened the door and there on the couch was -"

"She who?"

"Sarah, of course. And there on the couch was -"

"Sarah's back? Why didn't you say so in the first place! And she didn't come to see me right away? Things are worse than I thought. Shut my door on your way out, would you?"

And Agnes was gone, leaving Caroline to inform the ceiling: "Sarah's Mystery Man! Had to be the most GORGEOUS guy I've ever seen too." Sighing wistfully, she left the room, dutifully shutting the door behind her.


	23. Introductions and First Impressions

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Introductions and First Impressions**

Sarah's eyes were sparkling with enjoyment. She covered her face with one hand and shook her head. "Oh, I had forgotten all about that!" After explaining who Mr. Darcy was, she had asked a somewhat unconvinced Jareth where he had heard the name without knowing the story. With a slight hesitation, knowing he would be venturing on the same grounds that caused their argument from earlier, he related how he had listened to a conversation between some of her High School Drama friends one night. Her own surprise and subsequent wariness at his answer had quickly melted away into nostalgia as the memories of that night, and that show, flooded back. "You know, Aggie had told me the gist of what was said before I got there after the show that night, but not with word for word precision. That was ages ago! How did you remember the whole thing?" _And why?_ The question arose unbidden, but it remained unspoken.

"Yes, well -"

Whatever he had intended to say was lost as the door flew open once more. Agnes flew into the room, her red hair in a fuzzy ponytail at the top of her head that bounced frenetically as she whipped her head around and sighted on Sarah. "Williams! THERE you are! How long have you been here?"

"Hey Aggie. About twenty minutes, half an hour maybe. This -"

Agnes bounded over and sat down with her back to the arm of Sarah's chair, her head leaning against the arm rest. "Why didn't you come talk to me as soon as you were back? Was it that terrible? I can imagine it was. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Everything's ok. Aggie, this -"

"Oh, Sarah you don't have to pretend to be so brave. Edmund called me and told me what happened, those damn fool boys. I _told_ you you should have let me have him pound Sammuel into the ground. Think of all the trouble it might have saved!"

Sarah tried yet again, a little louder. "Aggie! This -"

"But none of that really matters now, does it. And I would prefer to hear your views on what happened before I go condemning the boys for their stupidity. Though I still think they behaved stupidly no matter what, and that thought will likely only increase after your telling. But, anyway -"

Finally, Sarah just reached over, rolling her eyes, and rapped Agnes on the top of the head. "_Ag_-nes!"

Agnes tilted her head back and peered at Sarah, slightly surprised at being interrupted. "What?"

"This," she turned Agnes' head in the direction of Jareth, "is Jareth. Jareth, Aggie." As she made yet another introduction, Sarah considered how each one of that day had been the last way she would have hoped things to have gone. _Makes it seem as though everyone I know is peculiarly insane,_ she thought.

There was silence as realization sank in. "Oh." Agnes gave a feeble wave. "Um, hi there."

Jareth rested an elbow on the armrest and leaned his chin on his hand. "Hello," he responded, a slow grin appearing as Agnes shot a glare at Sarah who shrugged and leaned back in her chair in response before the both of them turned back to him. "I must say it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Sarah has told me a great deal about you."

Agnes could not help but grin in response. She could tell from his expression that he found her indiscreet entrance to be rather amusing, and, for some reason, liked him for not trying to hide it. "Really? Nothing too incriminating, I hope."

"Not at all. She has been highly complimentary."

"Well, that's reassuring." Her own grin turned rather evil. _Let's see what you are made of, shall we? _"Getting her to tell me anything about you has been like pulling teeth."

The way she said it, he concluded that she was trying to provoke either himself or Sarah, possibly both. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sarah glance down at Agnes, then give the ceiling a look of tried patience as she sighed heavily. However, she made no motion to contradict her friend. He knew Agnes was testing him, and his passing this test was as important to Sarah as it was to her friend. He kept his gaze on Agnes, as he would have done regardless, never faltering as he dryly answered, "Is that so?"

_He chooses to acknowledge my bluff, but not call me on it... Interesting._ Agnes was slightly impressed. "Oh, yes. My initial guess would be that she actually doesn't want to talk about you."

"_Really_?" He drew it out to sound suitably shocked at such an idea. "Certainly that couldn't be the case."

As Sarah listened and watched the two interact, she had the sudden worry that the tables were turning. _Agnes, don't you dare... This is supposed to be about sizing _him_ up, _not_ encouraging him to join you in getting a rise out of me. That comes later._ She sighed again. _Unfortunately for me._

"Exactly what I thought!" Agnes was greatly enjoying this. _Probably too much... Oh well!_ "Which led me to rethink the issue."

"Oh, naturally." _I wonder where, precisely, she is going with this one._ "Dare I ask after the conclusion?"

"Well," she said, turning to sit on her knees in front of Sarah and leaning in conspiratorially, "I figure it's one of two things."

Jareth leaned forward slightly as well. "You have my full attention."

"One," she counted on her fingers, "there is some great conspiracy going on between the two of you."

"And two?"

"Well, two," Agnes shrugged and leaned back, "you really are just such a dull character there's not much to tell."

Sarah groaned at that, hanging her head into her hands at the same time. "Oh, Aggie. Honestly."

They ignored her.

"Hm," Jareth appeared to give this some thought. "I hope it is the first. The second does not sound terribly flattering."

"No, not really," Agnes conceded. _Ok, so far he has my approval. But I should probably wait for the next phase, just to save Sarah's nerves._ "Well, since I so tactlessly interrupted earlier, I'll just zip on out again." She hopped up and strode to the door. After opening it, she turned back. "Good to meet you, Jareth. Don't be a stranger or anything." She started out the door, before poking her head around the corner again. "And no funny business, kids. Don't want the neighbors complaining." She ducked out before the pillow Sarah threw smacked her in the face.

"Sorry about that last comment," Sarah muttered. "I was hoping she'd stay mild. Which is silly, come to think of it, considering it's Agnes."

Jareth found it fascinating how many different shades of red she could turn, depending on the situation. "It's quite all right. She's very friendly, and rather funny." _And if you can take such teasing from your best friend this sedately, can I hope to presume you are becoming more comfortable with such an idea?_ He tried to prevent falling into full certainty, knowing the possibility to be wrong was still there.

Sarah chuckled. "Yes, she is that."

* * *

Agnes shut the door behind her and took two steps before stopping in the middle of the hallway to consider. _Well,_ she thought,_ he isn't afraid to banter, and is quick and intelligent enough to pull it off successfully. And he takes teasing well, though that could be just because I am Williams' best friend, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Should prove to be quite fun in the future. _A small group of people walked by and wondered what she was doing. She did not register their presence. _He certainly has a lovely voice, just draws you in._

"And good heavens! He looks so... so..." She spoke aloud without realizing it, causing a lone resident who was reading as she walked to jump. After seeing it was Agnes, however, who was staring off into space, she decided not to ask who 'he' was and what he looked 'so' of.

"No," Agnes continued. "You shouldn't do that. You should just let them be." There was a pause. Another resident turned the corner and ran into the first, who was still standing there. They both watched Agnes to see if she would do anything exciting.

"Oh, just do it. Sarah won't kill you in front of him, and by the time she gets the chance she may have changed her mind." With that, she turned around and marched back into Sarah's room, much to the disappointment of the two onlookers who exchanged shrugs and continued on their ways.

* * *

"I've never really known anyone else who can get away with saying so much. It's usually so outrageous that no one can believe she said it, and by the time they figure it out she's gone."

"As she did just now, I suppose?" Jareth smiled as the expected blush gently tinted her cheeks once more.

"Well, yes," Sarah continued. "Or -"

Once again, the door flew open and Agnes bounded in. "Ok, so I just couldn't properly leave without asking. You don't happen to have a brother, do you Jareth?"

"A brother?" His eyebrows furrowed, and he and Sarah exchanged equally bewildered glances.

Agnes did not really notice. "Yeah, you know. Someone who looks sort of like you? Or even remotely like you? Who is preferably single?"

Again out of the corner of his eye, Jareth could see Sarah trying hard not to laugh. "Er, no. No brothers."

"No? None at all?"

"None. No siblings at all, actually."

"Hm. Shame. Well, bye then." Quick as that, Agnes left again.

Once the door shut, Sarah's laughter became audible. "That would be another prime example."

"Yes, I think I could readily agree with you on that one." He did not get a chance to say anything else for the door flew open yet again.

"What about cousins? Nephews? Young uncles?" Agnes asked hopefully.

Sarah laughed even harder and Jareth chuckled as well. _I wonder what she means by 'young,' exactly._ "Sorry to disappoint, but no."

"Really." She sighed. "Damn, all those lovely genes and they haven't been spread for more people to enjoy. Ok, I'm really going now. Wills, come see me later, yeah?"

Before she could answer, Jareth spoke as he put on his gloves, then rose to put on his coat. "Actually, I think I had best depart. There are some things I must tend to at home before the day is gone completely."

"I'll just let you say goodbye then and wait in my room," Agnes said simultaneously with Sarah's, "I'll just grab my slippers and then walk you out."

Jareth watched as Agnes shook her head at Sarah, as though to say that was not quite what she should have said, while Sarah looked slightly mortified at Agnes. "No, it is quite all right. I can easily find my way out on my own; it is no maze to the door." Gentle pleasure coursed through him at seeing Sarah's smile at that remark. "And there is no need for either of you to inconvenience yourselves; I am sure you wish to talk and if you do not leave this room perhaps you will not be disturbed too frequently by visitors."

_Oh, he's good_, thought Agnes with a chuckle. She sidled over to sit at the desk and watched as Sarah rose as well and then walked him to the door. Somehow, the gesture managed to appear completely intimate for all that there was a third person in the room, but it did not make Agnes feel uncomfortable either.

"Thank you again for... today," Sarah offered, quietly.

"It was a pleasure, Sarah." Jareth thought, momentarily. "Well, most of it. Agnes," he said as he looked over.

Jareth gave a slight incline that she immediately knew was a casual bow. _They make bows casual? Learn something new every day, I guess. _"Jareth," she responded, the solemnity of her tone of voice belied by the cheeky grin.

"It was, as I said before, a pleasure to meet you as well."

"Likewise," she told him, touching her fingers to her forehead. _I wonder if that qualifies as a casual salute?_

"I shall call on you again soon, Sarah." He reached over once more to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering on her cheek so briefly it was almost unnoticeable. "If you wish it."

Agnes could not help noting that the way he said her name was as much of a caress as the physical gesture she may have missed had she not been watching carefully.

Sarah blushed slightly, once again, but smiled at him and nodded. "I would like that."

In the pause that followed, Agnes watched the two regard each other.

Finally, Sarah broke the silence with a quiet. "Bye," and Jareth opened the door. He bowed slightly to Sarah then nodded once more to Agnes before finally going out, shutting the door behind him.

"Well then, Williams." Agnes waited for Sarah to turn around. She did so, leaning up against the door, and looked at Agnes with expectant curiosity written plainly on her face. "I have to say... he certainly is..." she began twisting back and forth on Sarah's desk chair as she searched for the right description, "something else." It was the best she could come up with.

"Well, yes."

"But, my word. They don't make 'em like that very often. It really is a pity he has no relations for your poor, single, best friend."

Sarah laughed outright. "_You_ are the one who is something else. I mean, really. Besides, what about Edmund?"

"Oh, pshaw. Edmund is just a good friend." She didn't notice Sarah's quickly hidden smirk. "But speaking of Edmund, let's get the bad stuff out of the way before we start gushing about how gorgeous this Jareth of yours is, eh?"

"Oh, Aggie," Sarah giggled, flinging herself into her chair. "And what bad stuff would that be?"

"What bad stuff, she asks. Wills," Agnes stopped moving and leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. "_What_ happened today at the park?"

"Oh that bad stuff." Sarah sighed once more, thinking for a moment. "Well, it all started, I guess, after we had finished eating lunch..."


	24. Reflections

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Reflections**

"... And then we came up here for ice cream, but between freezer burn, Caroline, and you, that didn't happen. And here we are." After they had hashed out the details surrounding Sammuel's appearance, Sarah launched into a retelling of her afternoon with Jareth in general, leaving out any reference to the argument she and Jareth had. It was not that she would have minded Agnes knowing, she just could not decide how to tell it without the whole watching business sounding even _more_ strange than it already was. Which, she felt, was a pity, for she would have liked to hear Agnes' opinion on the matter.

Somewhere in the telling, Agnes had gravitated from Sarah's desk chair to her regular, upside down spot on the couch. She now grabbed a pillow and flipped it in the air a few times before hauling herself upright and throwing it at Sarah. "So."

"Uh huh." Sarah caught the pillow deftly; this type of exchange came naturally after nearly five years of living in dorms together, not to mention what seemed like countless more years of friendship.

"Before I go into _my_ angle, what do _you_ think of Jareth?"

"Hm." Sarah uncurled herself to sprawl sideways on the chair.

"'Hm' isn't quite up to your usual eloquent par, Williams."

"I was thinking."

Agnes sighed. "Sometimes, being your friend is challenging. How about I help you out. Let's start with the obvious: He is good looking."

"Yeah."

The response was still too non-committal for Agnes' liking. "Really good looking."

"Yeah."

The slightly breathy tone was encouraging. "Incredibly gorgeous, actually."

"_Tell_ me about it."

"No, no, no. _You_ are supposed to tell_ me_."

"Right." Sarah considered as Agnes held her tongue and reined in her impatience. "Well," she continued after a few minutes of silence, "I think I like him."

"You do? Never would have guessed that one."

Sarah threw the pillow back at Agnes. "No, I mean _really_."

_Well, at least she is admitting it. Finally._ "That much is obvious, Williams."

"Is it, really?" She sat up quickly. "It's not _too_ obvious, is it? I don't want to give the wrong impression or anything..."

"What sort of wrong impression could you give by it being obvious that you're interested and attracted to this man?" _Apart from the fact that you are just as interested in him as he appears to be in you, of course._

"That..." Sarah gave a frustrated sigh and returned to her sprawled position. "That I'm willing to commit to things that I'm not sure I'm ready for."

Agnes gave her friend a sharp look. "Commit? You make it sound as though he's proposed or something." She paused. "I mean, he hasn't, has he?"

"Well, no."

"Is he pressuring you or something?"

"No, not at all! He wouldn't do that."

"Oo-OO-oo. You're mightily defensive for someone not ready to commit to, well, anything at all."

Sarah glared, turning red once more. "I didn't say I wasn't ready to commit to anything. Just not, well, _every_thing," she muttered.

Agnes blinked a few times. "You are such a nutcase."

"Shut it."

"Yeah, yeah. Ok, just so we're clear, this is where you stand: You 'like' him, are happy that you're dating, will probably be happier to be a couple, but aren't sure if you want to sit around on a porch swing once you're both ancient and wrinkled while the great-grandchildren play in the yard."

"Well..."

"Oh, and you agree that he is as yummy as Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey on a hot summer day."

Sarah laughed. "But I don't _like _Chunky Monkey!"

Agnes rolled her eyes. "Well he wouldn't be Half-Baked; we all know that's you."

"_What_?"

"Well, it's true." Sarah tried to think of what flavor Ben & Jerry's Jareth _would _be, as well as what he would think of being thought of as 'yummy'. This set her laughing all the harder.

Agnes gave a heavy sigh, throwing the pillow once again to get Sarah's attention. "Hey now, none of that. We are having a serious conversation here."

"Oh, right." Though she managed to contain her laughter, her grin was still wide. Sarah stared resolutely at the ceiling, knowing one look at Agnes would only set her off again. "I concur with your statement about where I stand, except for the Chunky Monkey part."

"Fine. But for the sake of this discussion, we'll just say an ice cream cone in general and call it good."

"Fair enough."

"I assume you request my opinion, though my meeting him was brief?"

Sarah nodded, though Agnes did not see for she was staring resolutely at the ceiling as well.

"I take your silence for assent, then." This time, it was Agnes who paused, considering what to say and how to say it. "I suppose I give him my Temporary Stamp of Approval."

"I thought he had that already."

"No, he had my Preliminary Temporary Stamp of Approval, pending actual introduction. Now it is official. I'd like the chance to talk to him a bit more, just to make sure his intentions toward you are completely honorable-"

"Honorable intentions? That sounds like something my father would say. Or Edmund."

Agnes continued as though she did not hear that. "But as he seems to be genuinely interested in you as a person and not merely as a prize or an object or anything, he gets high marks and is well on his way to Full Fledged Approval."

"Well, that's good." The fact that Agnes had suddenly come up with levels of approval, something she'd never had before, amused Sarah.

"Yes, I like to think so. I may as well tell you that, had I met him under circumstances that did not surround your tender heart -"

"My _what?_ Aggie, you are so strange sometimes."

"Pot and kettle. As I was saying, in other circumstances, I think I would have approved of him already, and have been less critical about his qualifications. He seems like an intelligent, decent sort of man with great personality. It's just..." She hesitated.

Sarah did look at Agnes then. "Just what?"

"I've seen you hurt before. I hope you know I won't just stand by and let that happen again."

Sarah smiled a bit ruefully. " Yes, I know."

"I mean it, Sarah. I'll give him a piece of my mind if he so much as makes you think about crying. And I'll pound him in the ground myself if he hurts you, feels no remorse for it, and doesn't fix it."

"Oh, Agnes."

"Yeah, yeah. Now can we change the topic before we start going completely mushy? How about you tell me what exactly it is about Jareth that you find so attractive, physically of course. We can cover less superficial aspects later. And what is his last name, anyway?"

"It's King," Sarah said, giggling both at the idea of Jareth having a last name and at Agnes' typical distracting comments.

* * *

They talked for a few hours more then went up to dinner together, as they so often did. After dinner, both turned in early. Agnes had promised to meet Edmund before his first class the next day, which meant she would need to wake up before ten a.m.: a rare occurrence if she could help it. However, he wanted to make sure they were still 'friends' for all his involvement with the football fiasco, and she was never one to turn down breakfast sponsored by Edmund for no one made scrambled eggs like him. Sarah was simply tired out.

Yet as she lay in bed that night, her mind would not rest. It wandered in and out of various topics, namely centering on Jareth, to finally settle on bits and pieces of her conversation with Agnes. Her mind lit on one comment that she found unsettling, but before she could pinpoint why, she finally fell asleep.

It was restless, full of dreams she could remember nothing about save they disturbed and frightened her. As happens after a night of unrest, her whole day was thrown into confusion. She felt vaguely disoriented, and not entirely herself. She could not explain what was wrong, not even to Agnes, beyond the fact that she had not slept well.

This continued for two more nights and two more days. In that time, she heard nothing from Jareth. She did not expect to do so; she supposed it was not as though he had nothing else to do. Still, she _wanted_ to hear from him. And that thought was confusing.

When she returned to her dorm room after dinner Wednesday evening, she happened to look out the window of her front room. On the ledge outside lay an unadorned box. She would have known it was from Jareth even had there not been another feather tucked underneath it.

Pleased in spite of herself, she wasted no time in bringing the box inside and setting it on her desk. Opening it gingerly, she found a note settled atop another pile of white silk:

_It's a crystal, nothing more. But if you believe in it, it will protect you as you wander through your dreams. Trust in that, Sarah._

_I shall see you soon._

_- J_

_A crystal?_ she thought with trepidation, even as she smiled to herself at his wording. _And how did he know about the dreams?_

Setting the note aside, Sarah peeled away a bit of the silk. It revealed a crystal, as the note said, and identical to the ones he had offered her all those years ago. She stared at it, half afraid to touch it with the uncertainty of what it would do.

Finally, recalling the note, she took a deep breath and lifted it out of the box. Nothing seemed to happen apart from the sudden sense of calm that enveloped her as soon as she touched it. _Just like at the theatre on opening night_, she thought.

The small crystal ball was resting on a stand. She initially thought it was attached to the stand, but the ball moved when pressed the right way. Yet there was nothing visible holding it to the stand for all that it would not come off. "It's like magic or something," she told herself. "Actually, it probably _is_ magic."

Sarah considered where she should put it, not entirely sure she wanted it in her bedroom. _Just in case_, was the justification. But that thought gave her pause as her eyes lit on the note once more. _Well, maybe I should give him a little more credit... _With that, she placed it on a small table next to her alarm clock.

After staring at it for a few minutes, and feeling more content than she had in days, Sarah ran down the stairs to Agnes' room. She was not there, so Sarah left a note on her door: _He sent me a present. - Sarah_

When Agnes returned to read that, she had no doubt as to who 'he' was, and guessed there was more to it than what was written. She went upstairs only to find Sarah gone this time. Shrugging, she left a note of her own: _Ok, and? - Agnes_

They continued missing each other for the next two hours: _It made me feel better. - Sarah_

_Well that's good. - Agnes_

_No it isn't. - Sarah_

_Why not? - Agnes_

_Because... because... well, it just shouldn't have. - Sarah_

_Should or should not, it did. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? - Agnes_

_What is it with you and clichés? And can't you stay in one spot for five minutes? - Sarah_

Agnes read that and laughed for a full three minutes before heading back upstairs to respond in kind. But when she got to Sarah's door, it was open. She leaned against the wall and watched Sarah root through her toolbox for a minute. Finally, she announced, "I happen to _like_ clichés, thank you very much. And I was going to make a comment about how _you_ could stay put just as easily but since you're actually here..."

Sarah, who had been expecting Agnes to wander in at any moment, was not surprised by her friend's arrival. She found the monkey wrench she was looking for then grinned at Agnes as she walked out the door again. "Not for long. But I'll be back in a few minutes so sit down and don't leave."

"Right." Agnes cast a quick look around the room before calling down the hallway after Sarah's quickly retreating form, "Where is it?"

"Nightstand!" came the reply, shouted over Sarah's shoulder.

"Right," Agnes said again. She wandered into the bedroom to take a peek at the mysterious present.

She was still staring at it when Sarah came back. "So, what do you think?"

"Well, it seems a bit, I dunno, New Agey or something, but it's sort of mesmerizing at the same time. And, this is going to sound a bit weird, I'm sure, but I would never have guessed he'd be the type to send you something like that. And yet, looking at it, it seems like just the sort of thing he'd give. If that makes any sense."

"Actually," Sarah said, "it makes perfect sense." _And you don't know how right you are!_

"Good," Agnes nodded. "And I wouldn't worry so much about the fact that it made you feel better."

"I'd stopped, actually. But why do you say so?"

"Well, you do like him. And don't go denying it; you said so yourself."

"I wasn't planning on denying it. What does it have to do with anything though?"

Agnes rolled her eyes. "Duh. It's like the whole thing when you're fourteen and you're having a bad day and then the boy you have had a crush on for the past week actually says hello. This is the same sort of thing, only more, uh, mature."

"By 'mature', is it safe to assume you mean 'complicated'?"

"Yeah, basically."

"Okay, I'll buy that explanation."

"Good." Agnes' pager went off, interrupting the conversation. "Well," she said, looking at it, "duty, as they say, calls. I'll see you tomorrow, Williams."

"Good night, Aggie."

That night, Sarah fell asleep with her thoughts circling around Jareth once again.


	25. Startling Revelations

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Startling Revelations**

Sarah woke Thursday morning with the sun spilling onto her face through cracks in her blinds. Squinting, she stretched lazily. Once again, she could not remember her dreams, but somehow she knew they were completely opposite to those of the previous three nights.

Rolling over, she peered over the edge of her bed at her alarm clock. In doing so, her gaze fell on the crystal Jareth gave her instead. She smiled, snuggling deeper into her blankets. "Well," she told it, "I don't know if you are actually doing anything or not, but you sure are pretty."

Sarah remained in bed for a while longer. She had no classes on Thursdays and was able to take her time in getting started for the day. Finally rolling out of bed, she showered and got dressed, humming a song she had not heard in years.

When she got out to her front room, she wandered over to her fridge for a glass of orange juice. Doing what her stepmother had always cringed at, she drank straight from the container as she opened her blinds. The sight that greeted her nearly caused a spit-take.

Jareth was out on the tree again.

"Hi," she said as soon as she caught hold of her scattered thoughts. "I'll, uh, meet you downstairs?"

Once again, he flew off, leaving her standing in the middle of the room wondering if that was an affirmative. "I daresay having the Goblin King as a b - visitor keeps you on your toes."

* * *

Jareth was just approaching the landing when Sarah came bounding out the door. She skidded to a halt at the edge of the top step then jumped down to the bottom. "Hi," she said again.

He could not help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Good morning," he responded. "I had begun to think you were never going to open your curtains and that I would need to return Underground before I had the chance to see you."

_Curtains? Oh, he must mean the blinds._ Sarah giggled. "Yes, well, it feels like a lazy sort of morning. I hope you were not waiting too long."

"Not at all. But I am afraid I cannot stay for more than an hour or two."

"Oh." Her disappointment was evident, but she immediately brightened once again. "Well, it is such a beautiful day, would you like to just go for another walk?"

"That would be splendid."

Once again, they headed down the path toward the wooded park. As they did so, Sarah suddenly came to the conclusion that she would stop trying to resist her immediate impulses around Jareth so often. _No more second-guessing yourself, Sarah. Just relax! _Before she could change her mind, she reached out to link arms with Jareth, startling herself in the process. _Good heavens, what has come over me? I'm sure Aggie would be proud,_ she thought, shrugging to herself.

While he was extremely pleased, Jareth was rather surprised at Sarah being so unreserved. He glanced down at her just as she turned her head to watch a squirrel run up a tree. Her gaze followed it as it scampered across a branch and jumped into another tree. When he chuckled, she turned to look up at him.

"What?"

"You just seem to be in a good mood."

She shrugged again. "Oh. Well, I finally got a good night sleep."

"Ah."

They came to her thinking spot and she steered them over to sit down on the bench. She curled one leg underneath her and folded the other up to her chest, watching Jareth seat himself as elegantly as always. When he turned his head to regard her as well, she blurted, "How did you know what I was dreaming?"

He smiled again. "I only knew they were unpleasant, not what happened."

"Oh." Sarah thought this over for a bit, resting her chin on her knee and looking out over the pond. "Well, um, thank you for the gift. And for making them go away, I guess."

"You are most welcome, though I did not precisely make them 'go away'. To be honest, I was not certain the crystal would work when I sent it."

She tilted her head to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"There was something about the feel of your dreams that made me wonder, so I took a chance." He looked away, seeming to think, so Sarah waited for him to continue rather than press him for a further explanation right away. "Unfortunately for you, being on the receiving end of my suit has some less than pleasant consequences. I had not expected this situation to arise so quickly otherwise I would have given you the crystal sooner."

When he did not continue right away this time, her curiosity got the better of her. "What consequences?"

"As a rule, my people rarely travel Aboveground without due cause. As the Goblin King, I have a little more leeway than others, however the frequency of my visits of late has not gone unnoticed."

"Is... Are you going to get in trouble or something?"

He chuckled once more as he returned his gaze to lock with hers. "No. But even if that were the case, I would have come anyway."

She blushed, as he expected. "Oh." She thought for a moment more. "But why would your visiting have consequences for me?"

"Because you are the cause of my visits." The tiny crease in her forehead she got whenever she was confused or unsure appeared, making him smile. "You see, Sarah, it goes back to what I said before about the Fae watching each other. My frequent travels Aboveground are probably seen as rather out of character. Naturally, they would want to know why I am doing so, what is drawing my attention."

While the thought that Jareth could watch her made her slightly uncomfortable, the idea that people she had not even met would do so was even worse. "Oh, for crying out loud. Why don't they just ask?"

"Because they know I would not tell them were they to bother to do so. And while they may try to find out what I do when at home, my Kingdom is far too heavily protected for most Fae to even get a glimpse of the scenery using magic. Aboveground, however, such protections do not generally exist."

Sarah cast a nervous glance around. "So... they could be watching right now?"

"Well, no. They could be _trying_, but as long as my personal wards are in place they would not get very far."

"That's good. But I still don't see what that has to do with me. Or my dreams."

"They cannot see anything whilst I am here. And casting around randomly would prove fruitless and a waste of magic. So the smart ones, who would be the only ones to have figured out there is a reason to be looking at this point, would wait until I am gone and then feel out for where I have been."

"Ok..."

Jareth could tell she was still not entirely convinced. "Essentially someone, or possibly more than one someone, managed pinpoint where I was when I visited you in your room. They waited until night fell, when they know Mortals sleep. For when Mortals sleep, it is easier to take a look around."

She interrupted, slightly confused. "So they were snooping around my room and that gave me bad dreams?"

He shook his head. "No, not snoop around your room. Physical searches are nearly impossible from the Underground without the appropriate set-up beforehand. The intention was to 'snoop' around your mind."

Sarah's eyes widened in surprise and horror and she changed her position to kneel on the bench, facing Jareth straight on. "You mean they were-"

"No, Sarah. They could not have done so yet."

"But-"

He moved, sliding nearer to her on the bench and took her hands in one of his own, gloved, ones. With his free hand, he cupped the side of her face. "Please, let me finish. They are only able to look where I have been. The rules against prying into the minds of Mortals are strict; it is not worth the risk unless they can be certain they have found the right person, or people. Outside, in the open, it is far too vague. Anyone could be there and there would be no guarantee that the person they would find would have any connection with me. But inside, where there are walls separating rooms, the field is narrowed down."

"But you were _in_ my room," she spoke so quietly she almost whispered.

"I was in _one_ of your rooms. The minds of Mortals have a small protection against probes such as those that have been used on you. For some reason, the physical walls of buildings have connections with mental walls, offering some sort of barrier. With the distance of our two worlds, it is a strong barrier. Strong enough to prevent them from entering your mind against your will. Had you fallen asleep on your couch or in your chair, opening your mind through your dreams, they may have been able to find you. However, I have not been in your bedroom, where you sleep."

He seemed to be waiting for some sort of acknowledgement. "Oh," was all she could think to say.

"Your dreams left you feeling unrested, uncomfortable, correct?" She nodded. "It is similar to when someone is staring at you when you are awake, it leaves you feeling uncomfortable. As you slept, you had eyes looking for you. They could not find you, but they were close by. And because you were asleep, with the subconscious part of your mind in charge, you were vaguely aware of their presence. That sort of disturbance amplifies whatever upsetting thoughts are already flying about in your mind, hence the bad dreams." He paused, before continuing quietly. "I assure you, Sarah, had I any idea they were already looking to find you, I would never have entered your home until after ensuring you were safe."

"_Am_ I safe?"

He leaned back again, looking out over the water. "You accepted my gift freely. Nothing will harm you in your home now, whether you are awake or sleep. The entire building is guarded by the spell in the crystal. And everywhere else we have been together is far too public for it to be worth the effort."

"Hm." All this information did not sit well with Sarah, but she was knew there was little she could do about it save telling Jareth she did not wish to see him anymore. _And that is the one thing I am sure I will never do._ The realization was slightly startling. _It's just a day for startling revelations, I suppose._ As she sat there, trying to decide what to do or say next, she felt that there was really nothing she needed to say. Instead, she looked down at her hands where they were folded in her lap and still covered with one of his.

She turned her hands around to hold his instead. Looking up at him, she scooted closer and wrapped his arm around her. With a sigh, he fingered a strand of her hair with his other hand and leaned his head against hers. They sat there, in silence for a long while. Finally she spoke. "Jareth?"

"Mm?"

"When do you have to go?"

"Probably soon."

"Oh." _I don't think I want him to go_. "Do you have to?" The words left her mouth seemingly of their own volition.

"Unfortunately, yes." His voice was thickly coated with amusement.

"Oh." There was another long pause.

"Sarah," Jareth began, though he was not sure how to continue.

"Yes?"

"Why don't you... come with me."

"Where?"

"To my Kingdom."

She looked up at him. "To the Labyrinth?"

"Yes. Just for today, of course."

"You want me to come to the Underground with you."

He smiled at the way she stated the question, as though somewhat surprised that it was even a possibility. "Yes. I will not be able to spend the afternoon with you as I have work to do, but you can spend the day with some old friends."

"Old... Do you mean Hoggle?"

"Yes, and Didymus and Ludo, if you like."

"That would be nice..." She trailed off, thinking. "But, would I not see you at all?"

This time, it was her mild concern expressed so casually that brought the smile. "I will find you when I am finished, and you can join me for dinner should you wish to stay that long. Or I will bring you back Aboveground instead if you prefer."

"I can really go back with you?"

"Yes, of course. Simply say the word and we can go."

Sarah looked out over the pond, watching a duck paddle across, its wake disturbing the reflection of trees and sky, before meeting his gaze once more.


	26. Returning Underground

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Returning Underground**

"Take me with you." She spoke just above a whisper, certain of nothing other than she did not want him to leave her yet. His eyes searched hers, and she met him gaze for gaze, daring him to find a reason to deny the request. Instead, he smiled slightly and rose to stand before her. She looked up at him, wondering what was to come next, when he merely extended a hand. She took it, allowing him to help her stand as well.

Before Sarah had time to take a breath, the scene changed.

They no longer stood on campus next to a little bench and a small pond. Instead, they stood in a grove of some sort. A few small fruit trees, so young they could not have been planted more than a few years ago, were scattered in an octagonal clearing that was walled by a tall hedge interwoven here and there with roses. There was a pathway marked out by flat stones, light brown and off-white. It seemed to begin a few feet away from the hedge and disappeared into an arched hole in the green wall. On the opposite side of the clearing from the hole, a stone bench sat against the hedge. The faint scent of a variety of flowers lingered on a warm, gentle breeze.

"Where _are_ we?" Her voice was filled with innocent wonder as she looked around, eyes wide. This looked nothing like anything she had remembered seeing when last she came to this place.

"Part of the gardens on the Castle grounds."

"I didn't know there were gardens like this here."

"They were not like this when you were here nine years ago." He could not help but notice that, even as she looked around, she had yet to release his hand. "It is thanks to the remarkable skill of the gardener that they have been returned to a living, thriving state. Though, in truth, I think he outdid himself to achieve this result so quickly."

"Oh." She turned to him, eyes sparkling. "It's lovely. Perfect for a picnic."

He smiled at that. "Indeed it is. I shall have lunch brought out to you here."

"Oh. Um, should I stay here then, until you come back?"

"If you prefer, though there are more lovely parts of the gardens I would recommend instead." He deliberately did not acknowledge the sudden edge of uncertainty and fear that had crept into her voice. "Actually, you may go anywhere you like within the boundaries of my kingdom, though I do not know that I would suggest venturing into the Labyrinth itself. However, even if you choose to do so, you would have no cause for concern. Nothing can harm you here."

Sarah nodded. That he knew without being told that she was still disturbed by the revelation that there were those of his kind who were looking for her did not bother her. Instead, she found great comfort in knowing he knew.

"Come," Jareth continued. "There is something, or, rather, someone, I would like to show you."

He led her under the archway and along the stone path. Every now and then they would come to more such doorways in the hedge and pause as he poked his head through each to look around. Sarah took advantage of these opportunities as well to take a brief glance at what all could be found here, though they would move on before she could take everything in. From what she saw, the variety of flowers and plants was astounding. Not everything was in full bloom, however. In fact, everything she recognized was at the same state of growth that it would have been Aboveground.

They went around and around until Sarah was quite thoroughly lost. _Apparently the gardens are as much of a labyrinth as, well, the Labyrinth._ Finally, Jareth seemed to find what he was looking for and they walked through the doorway instead of standing just outside it. Before she had the chance to look around, Jareth pointed at a corner of the garden. When Sarah looked in that direction, everything else around her ceased to stand out.

There, kneeling in the soil and tugging at a fairly stubborn plant, she saw a small figure whose form she would never mistake. The clothes and mannerisms were the same as always, though he was engaging in a task she had not seen him do before. Though Jareth had told her she would be able to see him, she had not expected it to be so soon and her eyes widened in surprise.

"It grows late, Hoggle," Jareth said, not really looking at the Dwarf. Instead, he regarded the woman beside him and gauged her reactions. "Perhaps now would be a good time to take a short break?"

"Now, yer Majesty, I know you say there is no need to work so hard. But I's got a great deal more to do and-" He had turned slowly to look over his shoulder, cutting himself off when he saw that, not only was Jareth standing hand in hand with a young woman, but that young woman was none other than Sarah. His first friend.

They all remained in silence: Hoggle not entirely certain he was seeing properly, Sarah uncertain that her presence would be welcome after so much time, and Jareth fully aware of Sarah's uncertainty. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze of encouragement. "I believe you two know each other."

Suddenly given all the reassurance she needed, Sarah smiled broadly. "Hello, Hoggle. Been a long time."

Hoggle's own face cracked into a grin. "That it has, Sarah."

Unbidden, Jareth felt a pang of jealousy that the dwarf would likely receive a warmer welcome than he initially had. Knowing that giving in to such a thing would get him nowhere, he forced it away to one side. "I shall come find you later, Sarah," he said quietly.

"All right," she whispered in response.

The verbal answer would have been much less than satisfactory, but for the expression on her face when she turned to look at him. Joy and gratitude were written on every corner of her face and he knew in that instant that in this simple reintroduction he had returned to her something she had long since considered lost beyond any hope of retrieval. With a final squeeze of his hand, Sarah went to kneel next to Hoggle, wrapping him in a great embrace. Hoggle caught Jareth's eye over her shoulder, reading assent in the nearly imperceptible nod, and he returned Sarah's hug gratefully as Jareth turned to walk away. Jareth went back out the way he came, not vanishing into the Castle until he turned the corner. Though he could not deny the wish that Sarah's happy chatter would come so easily in his company, the knowledge that she was so happy brought him joy of his own.

* * *

Sarah and Hoggle had moved to sit on the grass on his insistence that she should not be sitting around in dirt as he had been doing. They had been talking for quite a few hours, conversation coming easily for two who had not seen each other in years. But their odd friendship formed during her journey through the Labyrinth was one that left a lasting impression on the both of them, almost as though they were comrades in arms. That sense of a unified front, though they were not up against anything at the moment, would ever keep them close.

Shortly after Jareth had left, a pair of Goblins came wandering into the garden with a large tray laden with food. Hoggle chuckled at that, shaking his head, but refused to explain the reason for that reaction. Instead, he insisted Sarah tell him what she had been doing for the past nine years.

She summarized as best she could, answering all his questions throughout the telling while they ate, until she came to recent events. "Then a few months ago, Jareth showed up again. He's come to visit a few times, and then invited me here for today."

"Why ain't you spendin' the day with him, then?"

"He said he had work to do, but that I was more than welcome to spend the day with you instead."

"Ah." _What that must have cost his pride,_ Hoggle thought, _to give you the opportunity to choose someone else's company over his own_. Though he had a fair idea what Jareth's intentions were, he wondered what was going on in Sarah's mind. "So, what's goin' on with you two?"

Sarah blushed and averted her gaze, looking instead at her feet. "I... I don't really know, exactly."

That was not quite what he expected. "No?"

"Well, sort of. I mean, I know he's... interested in me."

_Well, that's one way to put it,_ Hoggle thought.

"And I have to admit that I... really like him. But I've never been involved with anyone like him before. I can't tell if it's because he is what he is, whatever that is exactly, or if it is because this is somehow just a more, mature sort of thing or something. And sometimes things feel like things are going incredibly slow. He hasn't even kissed me yet. Not that I'm really sure if I'm ready for that yet. Though I do kind of want him to, sometimes. But on the other hand, I feel more involved with him than I should be considering we've only seen each other," she counted on her fingers, "five times, including today. Six, including the night at the theatre when he was just there and didn't say a word. I'm pretty sure he's serious about this, and whenever he's around I feel like we could stay this way forever. But when he's not, which is more often, I keep thinking that this all has to be a game, or a dream. That it couldn't be real, no matter how much I want it to be. Or that I'm in way over my head because he's so... so... I just don't know. It's all very confusing." Sarah found she was able to voice her insecurities to Hoggle more easily than even to Agnes. She supposed it was because Hoggle, who not only knew Jareth but knew what he was and the whole truth of her first encounter with him, could look on the whole thing with a completely different frame of reference.

"Well now, Sarah, he don't talk to me about these things or nothin', but I wager _he's_ just as uncertain as to how to go about courtin' _you_ as _you_ are uncertain how to receive _him_."

"That just doesn't seem possible," she said on a shaky laugh.

"Well, now, he's lived almost his whole life bein' in charge of himself, answerin' to nobody, and he was fairly young when he came into power. But you," he gestured at her with one wrinkled hand. "You never gave in to him and constantly defied him when you were still little more than a child, before he even knew he wanted you. Now he knows he does, and he knows that you're someone who is not simply goin' to, well, jump into his arms jest because he's the Goblin King."

"So, I'm just a... a challenge?"

"No, that ain't what I meant. I jest meant that he probably don't know where he stands with you if you don't tell him. You have become a strong woman with a mind of her own. And you come from a different World than he does. What is custom here may not be something you're familiar with."

"That's true. We actually ran into that particular problem once already."

"You see? I wouldn't worry too much. It'll all come together in the end the way it's supposed to." _After all_, he thought, _you're here already, even if it is just for the day._

"But how do I know how it is supposed to be?"

"Jest, er, follow yer heart."

"You make it sound so easy."

"Perhaps." He shrugged. "Maybe I's making it more simple than it really is. But even the most complex of situations have a simple base to stand on."

Sarah thought about that for a moment. "You're right," she said with a sigh. "Though putting it into practice might prove to be a bit of a challenge."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes. "You know something, Sarah?" he asked, finally. "I wouldn't say you've changed, exactly. But you've really grown up."

She laughed. "Well, I should hope so. It's been nine years!"

"Some days it don't seem like it could have been so long."

"True." She stopped as a chicken wandered in through a gap in the hedge and clucked its way across the garden. "What is it with all the chickens here?"

"Eh, don't think anyone really knows. They just pop up now and again when least expected."

"Sort of like Jareth," she said in mock seriousness.

Hoggle looked at her sharply, wondering if he heard her properly. "Hm. I's not too sure how His Majesty would feel about being compared to a chicken," he said, watching the chicken in question leave through another gap on the other side of the garden. "I mean, he's changed quite a bit too, but everyone has their limits."

"He really has changed, then?" she wondered aloud. "I thought that maybe it was just my impression of him as being different because of my 'older' and 'more mature' point of view."

He laughed. "Nah, he's changed in his own way."

"Hm. I wonder why."

_Do you really?_ Hoggle had to smile to himself. "Passage of time, I guess."

"Hm." Sarah said again. Triggered by the conversation, her mind wandered to a snippet from the conversation she and Agnes had Sunday night after Jareth left.

_"You 'like' him," _Agnes had said, _"are happy that you're dating, will probably be happier to be a couple, but aren't sure if you want to sit around on a porch swing once you're both ancient and wrinkled while the great-grandchildren play in the yard."_

She realized as well that it was this thought she had landed on before she went to sleep Sunday night, but had not gotten the chance to focus on yet. "Hoggle..." she began, gnawing on her lower lip.

"Yeah?" When she did not answer right away, he looked at her. "Sarah? Is something wrong?"

"No. Yes. It's just," she hesitated briefly before plodding on. "Agnes, the friend I told you about, said something the other day about Jareth... Well, about me in regards to Jareth."

"Oh?"

"She said something about he and I being ancient and wrinkled together."

"Right..." He had a feeling he knew where she was going with this.

"I know Jareth has changed in some ways, but in others, he hasn't. He looks _exactly_ how I remember him."

"Well," he said slowly, "that he does. Looked that way for as long as I remember him, which is quite a long time actually."

"How long is that, if you don't mind my asking."

"Oh, a couple hundred years or so."

"A couple... good heavens. Hoggle," her brow furrowed deeply, "people... _human_ people don't live that long."

"Normally, no."

"What happens when... when I grow old and Jareth," she had little desire to say it, but needed an answer from someone she could trust, "_doesn't_?"

He patted her hand awkwardly in a gesture that was vaguely familiar. "Oh, Sarah, I wouldn't worry too much about that."

"What?" She gave him an incredulous look. "How can I possibly _not_ worry about it?"

"Sarah -"

"I mean, for all that this whole thing still makes me rather, well, nervous, I have to admit that when I've been thinking of Jareth and I as a couple, I sort of pictured us actually growing old together. I'm a girl; it's what we do! But now you tell me he's a couple of hundred years old -"

"No, _I'm_ a couple of hundred years old. His Majesty goes back much farther."

She blinked at that. "Oh." It took a minute for her to get going again. "Still, he hasn't aged at all. But I have. I will. What is going to happen when -"

"Sarah," Hoggle interrupted her, placing his hand on her arm. "When you two finally sort yerselves out, what you and Jareth will have will be something special. That sort of thing don't come along every day, you know. And it ain't likely to be undermined by a little thing like human aging." His tone brooked no argument and he gave a hard nod to add even more emphasis to his words.

Sarah looked at him, curiously. "How can you be so certain?"

"Some things, Sarah girl, a body just knows. Now you just trust me on this here point. As yer friend, I'd not lead you wrong."

"I..." Sarah looked him in the eyes and suddenly knew he was right, without a doubt. "I trust you, Hoggle." He gave her hand a final pat and then faced the garden once more. Sarah sighed, smiling, and shook her head before echoing his gaze. "How is it that one simple comment can make everything seem ok?"

"Don't quite know. But when it happens, just gotta take it in stride."

"Right again, my friend. Right again." She watched the breeze make the daffodils bounce their heads. "Enough about me, though. What have you been up to all this time?"


	27. Catching Up

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Catching Up**

Hoggle looked awkwardly at his hands. "Oh, there's not that much to tell, really."

"But there has to be something, Hoggle. It _has_ been nine years." Sarah lay back on the grass and stared up at the sky that was dotted with fluffy white clouds.

"Well, things pretty much went back to the way they were before you came. I went back to tending the vines outside the walls of the Labyrinth. Then almost four years later, I got a summons to the Castle. Now I have to admit, Sarah, I was pretty nervous about comin' face to face with His Majesty after all that time."

She turned to look at him. "Why?"

"Well, I had heard rumors by that time about things goin' on in the Goblin City." He shot a glance at her from the corner of his eye.

Sarah frowned. "What kind of things?"

"No one could say, precisely. Word was that His Majesty had changed somehow, perhaps gone a bit mad for he weren't actin' like his usual self." At Sarah's startled expression, he hurried on. "Though I weren't as worried about that as I was the fact that I hadn't quite followed his orders all those years ago."

"Wha -"

Not letting her continue, Hoggle turned to face her once more. "It's like this, Sarah. The Fae are generally a possessive and jealous sort. Compared to the way history and legend tell it, things have mellowed out over the last few millennia or so. But those traits are still part of the basic nature of the Fae."

"That isn't all that foreign to human nature to some extent, really," Sarah said.

"Not even humans manage to duplicate the Fae in the sheer strength of it, though. And, considerin' how long they live, the Fae hold grudges like none other. His Majesty included. And when you defeated his Labyrinth, somethin' no one had ever done before..." Hoggle trailed off, letting Sarah come to the obvious conclusion.

"Oh." She paused. "So, by all rights, Jareth shouldn't be exactly happy with me. At all."

Hoggle chuckled. "No, not really. And since I helped you along yer way, rather directly against his orders -"

"By all rights he shouldn't have been happy with you either."

"Exactly."

"I didn't realize that you might have gotten in trouble after I left. Why didn't you tell all this to me before?"

"Apart from the fact that it didn't ever come up?" Hoggle shrugged. "It's against the rules."

"The ru – Oh. _Those_ rules."

He laughed at her expression. "Yeah, that'd be them."

Sarah mulled that one over for a minute. "Well, he obviously didn't dip you headfirst into the Bog of Eternal Stench. So what happened?"

"Nothin' too special, really. Jest made me gardener of this here place, much to my surprise. It was rather desolate when I started, but it's on its way to gettin' up to snuff."

"On it's way?" Sarah looked incredulous. "Hoggle, it's _beautiful_."

"Nah, it ain't much to go on about." Though he waved her comment aside, embarrassed, Hoggle could not prevent showing his pride at Sarah's compliment.

She looked around again. "You know, I never would have thought Jareth to be that interested in gardens like this."

"Er, no. Can't say that I'd have done either." _But then,_ he thought, _something tells me he didn't exactly have me come work here and fix them up for _his own_ personal enjoyment. _Aloud, he continued, "So that's what's been goin' on with me. Anythin' else you'd like to know?"

"What about Sir Didymus? And Ludo? Do you know what happened to them?"

"Aye, some. Didymus took Ambrosius back to the Bog to resume his post."

Sarah looked rather startled at that. "He went _back_ to the Bog? By choice?"

"Heh. That's what I thought. But his sense of smell weren't that good when we met him."

"No," Sarah giggled, "that's true. But goodness."

"He tried to get Ludo to join him, bein' that they're brothers or somethin'."

"Tried? I take it he was unsuccessful."

"Yeah. And the wailin' to be heard from them both when they parted were like none other."

"Wailing?"

"Well, yeah. Bein' as they thought they might never see each other again."

"But that's terrible!"

"And pointless." Hoggle shook his head. "I believe they have tea together once a week."

Sarah was silent, staring at Hoggle with disbelief. "Really," she said finally, for lack of better words.

He nodded. "Beginning the morning after you left, in fact."

"I have nothing to say to that." Sarah shook her own head, chuckling with amusement. "Do you ever join them?"

"Me? Drink tea? Nah. But they come out to the gardens now and again. Didymus likes to update me on all the things that go on in the Bog, not that there is all that much to tell. He seems to think that it will remind me of the happy times I spent there."

"Happy times?" Sarah's eyebrows rose a notch.

"Yeah." There was a pause, then Hoggle sighed. "I don't have the heart to tell him that I didn't care for the Bog much more than Ludo does."

Sarah giggled. "Poor Didymus. He's so misunderstood. I suppose it is just as well that he can't smell though. I wonder what he'd do otherwise?"

"Who knows."

"Hm... Does Ludo tell you what he is up to as well?"

"Er, no. He ain't much of a conversationalist, if you know what I mean."

Sarah laughed even more. "Oh dear. I suppose he's off somewhere with the rocks, then."

"Yeah, best as I can figure."

"But you're all happy, right?"

"Yeah, Sarah, I would say so."

A gentle cough interrupted their conversation. The two friends turned to find Jareth leaning in the doorway. As they stood, Hoggle took in the delight fleeting across Sarah's face before turning to Jareth with a nod. "Yer Majesty," he said.

"Hoggle, I apologize for disturbing you. But it is time to go, Sarah." Pushing himself away from the hedge, he approached them. "Unless, of course, you wish to join me for dinner."

Sarah looked at Jareth, taking in his costume with a smile. It was not nearly as extravagant as the ensembles she had seen him in during her first visit. He looked almost casual by comparison, if the combination could be called casual. It was a variation of that worn by men in Regency England: high waisted trousers, knee length boots, white shirt and vest. There the resemblance ended, however, for the vest was of fitted black leather and the shirt loose and open at the neck. As always, he wore gloves. His hair was still pulled back into a ponytail, leaving Sarah to wonder if its different length enabled it to even be styled as before. She could not help thinking, however, as she looked at him, that something was missing. What that something was, she could not pinpoint.

"I would like that," she told him. "Though I confess I feel slightly underdressed." She was well aware that her favorite jeans bore old paint stains and likely had attracted bits of dirt, grass, and moss during her talk with Hoggle.

Jareth chuckled. "That is a problem easily remedied." He offered her his arm. "Come with me."

Sarah looked down at her clothes once again, and shrugged. "Alrighty then," she said, taking his arm. She looked over at Hoggle and waved with her free hand. "Bye, Hoggle. I'll see you again soon."

Hoggle nodded, a smile further wrinkling his already wrinkled face. "Ok, Sarah." He gave a little bow as well. "Yer Majesty."

"Hoggle." Jareth gave the dwarf a half-grin and nodded in return before leading Sarah through the doorway in the hedge once again.

Hoggle watched them go, saw the way Sarah turned to Jareth and told him something while animatedly gesturing with her hand. He did not hear what it was, but Jareth's reaction was telling. It was a genuine smile expressing pure joy, the delight reaching his eyes as he chuckled low. Hoggle was both surprised and pleased to see it instead of the arrogant smirk with a hint of bitterness that so frequently was seen by almost everyone, or the weariness displayed when only his most trusted subjects were present.

_You better hang on to her this time, Yer Majesty, _he thought as they walked out of sight. As he contemplated the various reasons why, Hoggle returned to tugging at a stubborn weed that did not want to come out of the ground.


	28. Let Us Walk

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Let Us Walk**

"It is a bit of a walk to where we need to be, to be fair," Jareth told Sarah, "so I hope you aren't terribly hungry."

She shook her head. "Not terribly, no." She paused, considering briefly. "If I were, would we have just poofed to wherever it is we are going?"

"Poofed?"

"Yeah, you know, with your magic. Going from one place to the next instantly. One minute you're here and the next," she waved her free hand, "poof! You kept disappearing and reappearing out of nowhere when I was here before."

Jareth blinked down at the young woman who was looking at him expectantly. "Poofed." He half expected her to burst out laughing at any moment from such teasing before it dawned on him that she was completely serious. "It is a bit more complicated than that, especially when including someone else, you know."

She shrugged, turning her attention back to the foliage as they walked. "Hm. I suppose so. But surely you must be so well-practiced at it by now that it would come as second nature."

"Would you... prefer to, er, poof there?" He was having a hard time wrapping his brain around the idea that a magical ability he had perfected to carry off with finesse had been reduced to such a simple and inelegant word.

"No, not particularly. This way I can see some of the castle. Hoggle mentioned there have been changes to it and to the city. Besides, last time I wasn't able to meander through and take in the sights. I just thought it might be interesting to zip around the way you do."

_First poofing, now zipping?_ Jareth could not decide if he wanted to laugh at it all or sigh in resignation. "There will be other times for a tour, Sarah."

"Mm," she agreed, her gaze turning upwards as they walked through a tunnel made of vines blooming over arched frames. "I suppose by that token, there will be other times to go by magic."

"True." He could not hold back another smile at her offhand acknowledgment that she would return again.

Sarah gave a small sigh of contentment. She had been nervous about the idea of returning Underground since the moment Jareth had reappeared. Her hesitation over the issue had waned the more she was in his company, to be replaced by a desire to return that had been growing so slowly she was hardly aware of its presence. However, she had not been sure of what would greet her if she were to make that journey.

Her trip to the Labyrinth of nine years previous was not merely an exciting adventure that met all the expectations of a fourteen-year-old girl. It was also an experience that had frightened her, one that taught her some things about the harsh realities of life. Whether or not she _wanted_ to return to the Underground was secondary to her worry that, should she return, it would prove to be as harsh and frightening as before, perhaps even more so. She was also still worried that this was all another game or, perhaps, another dream. She did not _want_ to believe this was so, in fact she had come a long way toward fully believing the opposite, but the thought still arose unbidden at the most random and inopportune moments. Compounded with the recently added complication of being spied upon by other Fae, she was certain she was involved in something that reached far over her ability to comprehend. No matter what her feelings for Jareth might be, something she was still trying to both understand and define, the weight of everything else loomed over her shoulder.

Here in these gardens, however, it felt as though the sun shone too brightly to allow such shadows to cloud her enjoyment of the moment. Even Jareth's presence at her side, something she was normally hyper aware of, felt natural. For the first time in her life she felt as though she was in a place where she simply belonged, with no need to prove herself or validate her claim to the position.

Bringing herself back to the moment, she angled her head to peer up at Jareth. "Has the inside of the castle changed as much as things out here?"

"Well, yes, I suppose. There was more than a little destruction to both castle and city when you left. I could hardly live in a state of disrepair any more than I could expect my subjects to do so."

"Oh." Sarah looked away during the heavy pause. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Jareth's eyebrow quirked inquisitively, both at her comment and at the sudden seriousness in her mood. "Whatever for?"

"I didn't realize that things were so... greatly affected."

He chuckled. "How could you have?"

"Well I -" she stopped abruptly, logical reasons escaping her completely. "I mean, I..."

His smile widened as she floundered for a response. "Exactly. In all honesty, I doubt anyone expected anything to happen the way it did. _I_ certainly did not." The dry comment drew a smile that lit her eyes once again. "But, as it happened, things turned out well enough. In fact, having a demolished castle and ransacked city on my hands was something of a relief."

Sarah was not sure she wanted to discuss this. Revisiting her first encounters with the Labyrinth and its inhabitants, not to mention its master, still felt like shaky ground. Yet curiosity got the better of her. "How do you mean?"

"It gave my Goblins direction. In truth, it gave _me_ direction. You see, after you were gone, a choice lay before me. I could have taken the easy route, simply return everything back the way it was before you arrived."

"With magic?"

"Yes. Alternatively, I could do something I had not bothered to do before."

"And what was that?"

"Work."

There was a beat of silence. "Are you serious?"

"Oh yes, quite." He turned when she stopped, taking in her stunned expression, and gently shrugged. "Magic had always come easy for me. Why should I bother to walk down the hall when, with a flick of my wrist, I could be there instantly? Why lift a finger of my own when someone else could do it for me? Why work for what I wanted when I could just have it on a whim."

"Wow." Sarah shook her head in wonder before continuing to walk, led on Jareth's arm once more. "I can't imagine living like that. I mean, I had it easy as a kid, but even I had chores to do. And, though I complained in abundance, I did them."

"Oh, it was quite the easy life."

Sarah giggled at his lofty tone. "I'm sure. Why did you decide to do it differently then, after all that time?"

"For one reason only: I realized it was high time I stopped behaving like the childish, spoiled prince I had always been and become a king in the truest sense."

It made sense, and somehow reminded her of something. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Oh," he hoped he succeeded in nonchalance, "just an overheard comment that rang true one day."

"Hm." Sarah mulled this over for a moment. _I wonder which of the two of us has changed the most over the years..._ "And has it been worth it? This... change in lifestyle, I guess you could call it?"

"Definitely." _And in more ways than you are yet aware._ "I have come to understand that, although instant gratification certainly has its perks, it cannot compare to a well earned sense of accomplishment. If it is not worth putting forth some amount of effort," he shrugged, "I find myself now wondering if it is truly worth doing." At this, he paused and then chuckled. "I suppose it was the last true lesson of adolescence, though perhaps a little late in the learning."

"Adol-" She cut herself off, shaking her head. "I find that difficult to believe."

"The Fae live... for a long time. It is easy for us to get caught up in the ease of life and the comforts we have for ourselves. But the lesson remains that because of the amount if time we have to do anything, the time taken has value. Great value."

"Okay then, perhaps not difficult to believe. More like... difficult to picture you as an adolescent at any point in our acquaintance."

Jareth threw his head back with the force of his laughter. "I see," he continued, once he was able to speak again. "In any case, once repairs to the Goblin City had reached a point where my people could begin moving in again, I turned my attention to the remodel of the castle. And as you can see," he led Sarah around a corner and gave a flourish with his hand, "it is much changed."


	29. Dining With the Goblin King

_Checked for continuity, grammar, and spelling: May 3, 2011._

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Dinner With the Goblin King**

Sarah surveyed her reflection with interest. Now dressed formally for dinner, having received assistance from a Goblin maid, she grinned at how the last half hour simply flew by.

Though Jareth made light of the changes to the castle, she had been blown away when her eyes first lit on the monumental structure. According to her host, who appeared to be most amused at her reaction, it was an even more impressive sight when seen from the front. She found this difficult to believe, so astonished at the side entrance as she was. Jareth merely chuckled and led her through the door, a small thing of dark and heavy oak surrounded by intricate relief sculptures. Best she could tell, it depicted a scene of some creatures frolicking in a garden. When she mentioned this, Jareth nodded, explaining that, as the door was considered the Garden Entrance, the stone doorway had been decorated to indicate this. He added that, should she take a closer look at the door itself, tiny carvings wound around the knots to continue the scene. Even the ironwork had been crafted to match.

As he quickly swept her along corridors, staircases, and even a secret passage, Jareth told her that eventually the entire castle would be completed in the same manner. However, Goblin hands, even those belonging to the master craftsmen among them, could only create so fast.

Sarah was surprised anew that he would leave such fine detail in the hands of Goblins, her own experience with them leaving her with the impression that they would be quite incapable of such deeds. With another laugh, he told her that their ability actually surprised him as well. He had not hoped for the results he had been given. But once he had seen what they could do, he could do little else than employ them to their fullest abilities. "Goblins are not self-motivated by nature" he had said. "When left to their own devices and with little guidance, anything they do will be done in the least productive manner and with very little care. However, teach a Goblin a skill and give him a task and he will do naught until it has been completed. Give him explicit instructions of what it is that needs to be done and favor the skills at which he excels, and he will accomplish such feats as are not to be believed. Which" he had added after a pause, "I confess I try to keep secret from, well, nearly everyone. That others cannot believe my Goblins capable of anything leads them to constantly underestimate them. And _that _gives me an edge."

Soon after that comment, he stopped in front of another door. "This is where I leave you, Sarah" he had said. "You will find everything you need to dress for dinner in this room. And, should anything not meet your satisfaction, simply ask for it and it shall be done." He then opened the door and bowed her inside.

Her eyes grew wide in astonishment. It was a room straight out of a historical novel or, perhaps, a very detailed retelling of a fairy tale. A window, complete with window seat, overlooked the gardens. There were two wardrobes, a dresser, a vanity, and an assortment of chairs and mirrors. The furniture was crafted of cherry, polished to such a degree she felt sure she could see her own reflection in the wood. Drapes, cushions, and the rug were of a brilliant sapphire coloring with silver trim.

"Wow." She gazed around the room. "This is... wow. Your Goblins did all this?" When she looked at Jareth, however, the slightly smug gleam in his eye prompted her to turn back to the room and add, "Though I would have preferred burgundy and cream."

With those words, the color scheme of the room had shifted to meet her preference.

Sarah's jaw dropped. "How... I mean, well, _how?_" She was so astonished, she could not quite elaborate what she meant.

"There are some things, I admit, that I do not leave to the hands of my Goblins." Jareth smirked as she whipped her head around to meet his eyes. "When you are ready, a servant shall be waiting to take you to the dining room." Still smirking, he bowed once more and closed the door, leaving her to her own devices.

She immediately opened all the doors and drawers to find, as Jareth had said, everything she could possibly need to get ready. There was even a ceramic basin with a matching pitcher filled with perfectly heated water, something she also attributed to his magic, and towels. Much as she wanted to spend time looking through everything, she had begun to feel hungry so she quickly washed before blindly choosing a dress from one of the wardrobes.

At this point, Sarah had gotten stuck. She had never worn anything that fastened with nothing but strings. Some of her costumes over the years had laces, to be sure, but they were all for show. These had no zippers, buttons, or snaps (she had not been so foolish as to expect velcro). Merely... strings. After staring at her selection for a moment, she went back to the wardrobe. A brief inspection led to the conclusion that _all _of the clothing posed this challenge. "I think I may actually need that help getting dressed," she muttered, shaking her head and holding her original choice up before her.

Someone rapped at the door. "M'lady?" a muffled, yet obviously female, voice called out. "His Majesty sent me to aid you in your preparations for dinner."

"I obviously need to be careful what I say here," Sarah commented before opening the door. On the other side stood a Goblin outfitted unmistakeably as a lady's maid. How Sarah knew that this was how a lady's maid would be outfitted she could not say. All Sarah knew was that, had she been told to describe such a thing, it would have been that which was presented before her at that moment. Shaking her head to rid herself of the residual shock of the whole experience, she said, "Actually, yes, I could use some help. Do you happen to know how this," Sarah held up the dress, "works?"

The Goblin laughed, a pleasing yet equally grating sound. "Aye, m'lady. But you don't want to be wearin' that gown tonight." She bustled in and set to work pulling things out of the wardrobes and drawers.

"Uh... I don't?"

"Nay. 'Twouldn't match His Majesty's outfit at all."

"Match?" Sarah looked skeptically at the dress in her hand. "I'm supposed to dress... to match?"

"Well, you don't really _have_ to. But it'd make a nice gesture, don't you think"

"Um..." _Matching outfits would be just too... well, corny. How am I supposed to get around this one? _Sarah thought fast. "Could we just... make sure the colors don't, you know, clash horribly instead"

The Goblin took in Sarah's expression and sighed. "Oh, all right. Now, let's get you ready"

And she had, in a whirlwind of fabric and laces. The Goblin had even done Sarah's hair and then, without giving Sarah a chance to voice her thanks, she was gone out the door with a quick curtsey. Sarah was left to admire the maid's handiwork on her own.

"Jareth was right about giving the Goblins specific tasks. I feel like a heroine from a fairy tale," she told her reflection softly. "Only this time, I guess it isn't at all pretend."

Another knock on the door interrupted her musings. This time, there was no query or announcement, so Sarah made an attempt at gliding across the floor to open the door. Another Goblin stood on the other side, this one some sort of footman. "Yes?"

The Goblin bowed so quickly and so low his forehead nearly smacked the stone floor. "I've come to escort you to the Dining Room, my Lady."

"Oh." Sarah blinked. "All right. Um, do I need to lock this door or anything?" she asked as she pulled it shut behind her.

"No, them's one of those magical doors that only opens at the hand of His Majesty or the one he bequeaths the room to."

_Bequeaths?_ "Oh. Well, let's go then, I guess." The footman bowed once more, then hurried on his way, leaving Sarah to follow at such a pace that all thoughts of Jareth's bequeathing fled to the back of her mind.

* * *

Now, she stood before a set of tall doors flanked by Goblin guards. The footman had hurried off with a third bow as soon as they arrived, the guards kept staring at her openly before looking away as soon as she tried to catch they eyes. Deciding there was nothing for it, Sarah straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath, and reached for one of the doorknobs.

It opened before she could touch it.

Walking into the room, she was first struck by its massiveness. She immediately looked up at the stone, barrel vault ceiling. It floated, long, wide, and impossibly high. There were spacious windows lining two outside walls, no evidence whatsoever of buttressing, and few columns supporting it. Indeed, what columns there were supported instead a narrow walkway nearly two and a half stories up that led to a balcony at one end of the room. _If I remember anything correctly from my high school Humanities class, this should be architecturally impossible, _Sarah thought. _Or at least unsound._

Her gaze fell to the centre of the room where a long oak table stood. It looked able to seat perhaps twenty people, though it was set for only two: one at the head, and one directly to the right of the first. Crystal and silver gently reflected the candlelight coming from the candelabras scattered throughout the room.

She then cast her gaze about the rest of the room, looking for the one who had invited her there. She found Jareth standing by a window, hands clasped behind his back. He slowly turned as soon as she looked at him and, with a warm smile, bowed to her. She could not help herself and curtseyed, grinning impishly back at him. He gestured to the table and walked toward it, arriving in time to pull out her chair. Sarah sat with what she hoped was grace, not entirely accustomed to the fit of her gown.

As soon as Jareth sat next to her, at the place set at the head of the table, a small door seemed to appear out of the masonry and a line of Goblins entered bearing trays bedecked with platters. Though by far the most formally presented event she had ever attended, Sarah was no less comfortable than she had been when they had gone on their picnic. Courses came out one at a time, and they ate at a leisurely pace enjoying each others company in lighthearted conversation covering all manner of topics. After dessert had begun, the topic shifted to the room itself.

"It's so huge" Sarah said, looking around once more. "I'm amazed that everything we say doesn't echo."

Jareth shrugged, a movement Sarah was becoming quite familiar with. "Oh, it should, I suppose. But I thought perhaps the lack thereof would create the illusion of a more intimate setting. I would not have preferred to eat here but the only other option at the moment is the Kitchens."

Sarah giggled. "I wouldn't have minded the Kitchens all that much. But I don't understand. In a place this big, there are only two rooms in which to eat"

"Yes. This will eventually serve as the Banquet Hall and nothing else. However, the actual Dining Room is yet to be completed."

"Oh." She contemplated this over a bite of dessert. "Do you have company enough to fill this place often"

Jareth chuckled. No," he said dryly. "You are the first visitor I have had since reconstruction began." _And for many years previous as well._

"Then why not complete the rooms that would be more comfortable to use first? Why finish the Banquet Hall first, something that would generally be used for," she wagered a guess, "hundreds?"

"Because the first guests any Fae Royal should always be prepared to entertain would be the High King and Queen. Generally, when they travel they have quite the entourage in tow. And though they have never actually made such a visit in all the years of my reign, as Their Majesties also tend to arrive unannounced, I thought it best to be prepared."

"Hm. That's sort of, well, rude."

"What is?"

"Just showing up and bringing enough people with them to fill a room this size for dinner."

"It is their right as High King and Queen."

"Just because someone has the right to do something doesn't excuse a lack of common courtesy. I mean, if it was just the two of them with a small group of attendants or whatever, then ok. That would be reasonable. But even so, a little advance warning would be polite."

"Their Majesty's actions are not governed by what is considered 'polite'."

Sarah blinked at him, astonished. "So they just... do what they want, whenever they please"

After the briefest consideration, Jareth nodded. "Generally, yes."

"And you just accept this?"

"As I said, they are the High King and Queen. I owe them my allegiance and my loyalty. Though I rule this kingdom, they rule this entire world."

"Ok, so they outrank you. But say you weren't prepared at the drop of a hat. What could they do to you?"

He sighed heavily, meeting her gaze and all hint of lightheartedness gone. "Much."

She responded by echoing his gesture of a raised eyebrow, challenging. "Such as?"

"Sarah..." Though he knew he would tell her anything she wished to know, his tone was guarded, hinting at a warning that this would not be what she would want to hear.

She deliberately ignored it. "Just name one thing that would make compliance to this sort of behavior a necessity."

"Very well. They could remove me from my position and of power."

She blinked. "Oh, is that all? And here I thought you were going to say death and destruction."

He leaned back in his chair. "It amounts to the same thing."

"You are joking." At his shaking of his head, Sarah's jaw dropped and it took a few heartbeats before she could recover. "What, simply because you couldn't accommodate some random whim of theirs" He nodded. "Jareth, that's outrageous!"

"Perhaps. But it is the way of things here, Sarah. Their word is law. I am their subject and as such I must adhere to it. I expect no less of my own."

There was a long silence as Sarah simply stared at him, dumbfounded. When she spoke, it was quiet. "Do you mean to tell me that if one of your subjects wasn't prepared to serve you a formal dinner in his or her home when you randomly drop in for an visit, you would find it a capitol offense"

He puzzled over the unfamiliar term. "A what"

"Worthy of... execution as a punishment."

"It would be extreme, but within my rights to do so."

She gaped at him, shaking her head. "And what about their rights"

"Their rights?"

"Yes! Hasn't there been a human rights movement here in the Underground? Or a Goblin rights movement or something?"

"No... Whatever for?"

"To guarantee that they are not being cruelly and unjustly punished!"

"That is part of what the monarch does."

"But you just said that you would-"

"No. I never said that I would. I said it would be an extreme reaction and within my rights, but _not that I would_. Only one who is truly evil would do such a thing."

"That _so_ does not make any sense. If you _wouldn't_, and only one who is truly evil ever _would_, then what is the point of it being within the rights of the Monarchs in the first place, or even have it be something to worry about?"

"I would think that one who would inflict such punishment would disregard any... Rights Movements of any kind."

"So there is no one to represent your people? Your subjects? Nothing to balance the power?"

"The power balances itself. That is the way of things here."

"Well maybe it's time for a change then."

"Change? Change what? The very nature of the Underground? The basis upon which this entire world and all its inhabitants exist?"

"Oh, come off it. How can giving your subjects more of a say have such an effect?"

"Because it would. Were any of them to make the attempt at attaining such power as needed to rule one of the kingdoms, we would be lucky if they only destroyed themselves and those close to them. The same would happen were I to attempt to overrule the High King and Queen. Their place is where it is, just as mine is right here."

"That is ridiculous. It's barbaric and speaks only of oppression. Positively mediaeval."

"You could not possibly understand what you are talking about, Sarah."

"You know, you're right. And I don't think I even want to. I'd like to go home now please."

"Very well." Jareth stood, offering his hand. Aggravated though he was at her stubborn insistence that things should be just as they are Aboveground, what he believed to be her only basis for comparison, he could not help but admire the care and dignity with which she removed her napkin from her lap, set it next to her plate, rose, and placed her own hand in his. And, much as he would have preferred to not part on a negative note, he knew how their tempers could fly. Were it to get much worse the damage to their still tenuous relationship could be irreparable. Later, when tempers had cooled, he would be able to explain precisely why her notions were incorrect.

For her part, as she teetered on the edge of hysterics, a tantrum, or worse, Sarah gathered every ounce of self-control she had left and took Jareth's hand to return home. She vaguely wondered how she would get her clothes back, and tried not to be even more affronted by his seeming eagerness to be rid of her. She was sure that once she had time to think things through and calm down, she would discover a way to convince him she was right.

With a slight whoosh, the air around them swirled a bit and they were standing once more by the bench next to the pond. They stared at each other, not quite glaring but neither backing down. Not breaking from her gaze, Jareth gave a short bow. "Goodnight, Sarah."

"Goodnight. Thank you for dinner."

"Of course." And with that, he faded out of sight.


	30. Different Perspectives

_Checked for continuity, spelling, and grammar: May 4, 2011._

**Chapter Thirty: Different Perspectives**

It was shortly after ten when Edmund began the last leg of his nightly run that would take him through the woods and directly to the dorms. Had he not been so used to seeing no one, he may not have noticed her sitting on the bench. Still, he likely would not have stopped but for the utterly despondent look on her face. "Whoa, Williams, isn't it a bit late for you to be out here"

Startled at the sound of anything louder than crickets and bullfrogs, Sarah jumped and looked up. "Oh, hey Eddie."

"What's up? You look, well, upset."

"Upset doesn't even begin to cover it." She gave the water a flat look and tossed away what was left of the leaf she had been shredding.

"Oh. Why"

"Because men are stupid."

Hoping he would not regret it, Edmund sat down next to her. "Well, uh, you wanna talk about it? I'm no Agnes or anything, but maybe I can offer a different perspective."

She looked at him half teasing, half suspicious. "You're not attempting to use this situation to get into Agnes' good graces or anything because of the picnic incident, are you"

"Nah, that's long since been resolved." He paused before looking mildly horrified and rushed on. "Not that I'd do that if I did need to get back into her good graces or anything. I mean."

Sarah cut him off with a small smile. "I'm just teasing you, Edmund. It's ok." She gave him a pat on the shoulder and looked back at the pond.

He coughed and scratched the back of his head before taking a deep breath. "So what's up?"

"Oh, not much. I'm just frustrated and angry and confused and bitter and guilty and sorry and sad and... and... ergh."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "Oh, is that all?"

She shrugged. "Well, yeah. Don't worry. It'll pass."

"Women."

"Pardon" Sarah turned sharply and looked at him through narrow eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"It's no wonder everything is complicated when it comes to dealing with you all. All those things at the same time? And this amounts to 'not much'? Very simple."

"It is _perfectly_ simple. I'm frustrated because I couldn't get through to him. I'm angry because his way of thinking is stupid. I'm confused because I don't understand his side. I'm bitter because I have a feeling I'll end up seeing his side of it in the end and don't want to be wrong. I'm guilty because I wasn't very nice. And I'm sad because I don't want him to be mad at me."

"Him? What, did you and Jareth have a fight?"

She sighed heavily. "Yeah, I guess you could say so."

"About what?"

"See, now _that_ is the complicated part."

"Oh, come on. Try me. I am a man after all."

"Oh, really?" Sarah scoffed. "So we had this impromptu dinner tonight and started discussing his, uh, work and the, well, the chain of command involved. And apparently those in a position of... of high authority have unending power and influence over those with less... authority."

"What sort of business is he into?"

"Oh... something within the government."

"Ah. Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Huh"

"People in government having power and influence over those in a lower rank. That sounds about right. So what's the problem?"

"Oh." Sarah couldn't help but blink. "I, uh, his superiors can walk all over him on a whim, and he has no say in the matter, no opportunity to object or present an argument. And he can do the same to his... people, who have no say either. Even if what is going on is unjust."

Edmund frowned. "He commits frequent injustices? More importantly deliberate ones?"

"Well, no." _At least not since I defeated the Labyrinth, apparently._

"Okay... So you, what, questioned the ethics of the system?"

"Yeah, pretty much. And I suggested that perhaps it was high time for change."

"I'm sure that went over well."

"Like a slug in a punch bowl. He basically told me that any such change would seriously upset the balance of power, and the whole system will fall apart. And that I _obviously_ didn't have a clue as to what I was talking about."

"Ooh. Them's fightin' words."

She grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. So I did the mature thing and did what amounted to tromping off in a huff."

"Well, at least you didn't bite his head off."

"I guess."

They kicked their heels in silence for a few minutes as Edmund pondered over the situation. "So what, exactly, does Jareth do?"

"Uh, I couldn't even begin to describe it. But I know it's a rather, well, prominent role."

"In the government?"

"Yep."

"And he's foreign, right?"

"Yep."

"He's not, I don't know, Communist or part of some tyrannical dictatorship?"

_Try Monarchical_ "Uh, no, nothing like that."

"Right. Um, Sarah, I don't mean this to be insulting or anything... but Poli-Sci was never your strong suit."

She looked sharply at him again. "What do you mean?"

"Well, remember when we took Central American History together?"

"Yeah..."

"You aced every test, quiz, and paper that prof threw at us with the exception of the one that covered the inner workings and foundation of the modern governments. And according to Agnes, you've been that way about _any_ governmental system since High School."

"Ok, so something about the concepts just eludes my grasp. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Little defensive there, geez. I'm just saying that maybe Jareth was right." He held up his hands in defense at her incredulous and accusatory look. "No, just hear me out. I don't know him, I don't know the particulars, and I'm not siding with him because he's a guy and I should take the stand of the male in the argument. Seriously though, I'm a Chemistry major, minoring in Accounting, have no head for all that bookish stuff like you, and even _I_ got a higher score on that test than you."

"Gee, thanks for rubbing it in."

"I'm just saying. Maybe you just can't see _why_ things have to be the way they are in whatever branch he works with because you don't get the way the system works as a whole. And even our government has a ranking system, and the superiors have to keep the little people in line somehow."

"But without some sort of checks and balance?"

"Did you give him a chance to explain they work?"

"Well..." Sarah blinked. "No, not really. He just said that the system balances itself and then I kind of moved on. I guess I was stuck on other things."

"There you go. So go home, call him up, and graciously tell him you're giving him the chance to apologize and explain himself further. That's probably what Agnes would tell you to do. At least it's what she does whenever we argue."

"I... well... I don't exactly have his number."

"He knows how to contact you, hell, he knows where you live, and you don't have _his_ number?" Edmund felt as though his eyes were going to pop out of his head, he was so surprised. "Dude, Sarah, are you _sure_ I don't need to go kick this guy's ass for you?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"But how do you know he isn't some sort of creep or something?"

"I... Well..." She shrugged. "I just _know_. It's a combination of women's intuition and, well, a very long story."

"Hm. If you're sure. But don't forget that the offer still stands should you need it."

"I won't. And Eddie" Sarah looked at him with an ironic smile. "Thanks."

Suddenly embarrassed, he scratched the back of his head and avoided her gaze. "Sure. Uh, do you want me to walk you back?"

"Nah, I might sit here for a while and think."

"Are you sure? It's dark out."

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm out here all the time. Don't worry so much."

"Ok, this time I _am_ protecting myself against Agnes' ire. She'll be upset if I just leave you here alone. So just let me walk you back already."

"To keep you out of trouble, I guess I can do that." As they started back, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Does Agnes really do that when you two have a tiff?"

"Yeah. She explained it once that by making the first move, she moves to the halfway point. By insisting I apologize first, she ensures I don't take advantage of her and start walking all over her. And by being gracious about it, generally apologizing after I do, she makes sure my masculinity isn't threatened. I'm not entirely sure how, or why, it works, but it makes her happy."

Sarah chuckled, much amused in spite of her less than good mood. "You two have quite the _friendship_, you know."

"Yeah."

* * *

Jareth drummed his fingers on his desk. He had spent much of the night pacing, resisting the temptation to conjure up a crystal and do the very thing he had not even considered doing since he discovered she disliked it so: spying on Sarah to find out what she was doing.

He knew she was no longer angry. That, along with a few other things she was feeling that were directed at him, had ebbed away within an hour or so. He had sensed her conversing with someone, though he could not tell whom. He assumed it was her friend, Agnes.

But what had replaced her anger, along with what had remained, concerned and upset him more than how she felt before: The mild sorrow, the hint of guilt, and a rather intense worry. This only ended in his worry increasing, and his own sense of guilt heightening as well. He decided he would rather have her angry.

Lacking any better ideas, and unable to rest until an idea came, Jareth vanished from his office to just outside the Garden Entrance to the castle. Though pacing in his study or his bedchamber would not have caused any wear to his carpeting, he thought perhaps a walk in the night air might clear his head. It was not long before his feet took him toward the same area he had brought Sarah to early that afternoon.

Staring at the stone bench from where he stood on the opposite side of the octagonal clearing, Jareth rubbed one hand across his face. "She is impossibly stubborn," he muttered.

"If yer speakin' of any of the plants here, yer Majesty, I can't say as they'd take kindly to such a remark" came a voice from somewhere to his right. "Though if yeh mean the little lady, well, I's got to agree with yeh."

"Hoggle," Jareth leaned against the hedge entrance without so much as rustling the branches before turning to look at the dwarf. He grinned, wryly, unsurprised at Hoggle's presence in the garden. "What the devil are you still doing here at this hour?" It was a question he was fairly sure he could guess the answer to, yet asked all the same to see how well he knew this particular subject of his.

The dwarf set his spade down, giving the soil a pat before sitting back on his heels to look directly at his King. "Well, I didn't get as much work done today as I'd've liked, seein' as I had that interruption. Not," he was quick to add, "that any interruption of that sort would be unwelcome."

"Of course. Still, would it not be easier to do this tomorrow? Surely an afternoon off would not cause you to fall so greatly behind."

"Eh" Hoggle shrugged. "It's not like I's got all that much to do 'sides this, so I was just checking on how things had been growin' in other parts of the Gardens than I's been working on. Was about to call it a day, anyway. But, er, to tell yeh the truth, yer Majesty, somethin' told me I should wait a bit longer."

An eyebrow popped up marginally. "Indeed?"

"Aye." Though still filling the roles of servant and master, subject and ruler, through their close interaction in the planning and developing of the Gardens, the two had formed a strange bond. Granted, intimacies were rarely shared, yet it was as though they were united on a common front and working toward a common goal of a nature greater than the cultivation of plants. Thus, Hoggle began with much less hesitation than he would ever have dared nine years previous. "So, what has she done this time?"

Jareth chuckled low, turning his gaze to the sky. "I cannot honestly say that it was entirely her, if it ever is entirely the fault of one person. We merely did not see eye to eye on a certain point of discussion at dinner, and she refused to accept my explanation in the slightest." He paused before adding, "She asked to be returned home without a resolution being reached."

"And did yeh?"

"Naturally. There is very little I would refuse her should her request be within my abilities to grant."

Hoggle chose not to comment on this tidbit of information, however telling it may have been. Nevertheless, he was relieved to once again have evidence that his king's intentions toward his friend were neither fickle nor vengeful in nature. "What did yeh fight over?"

"Namely the fact that I have ultimate power over my kingdom, and, for all intents and purposes, the people in it. Much in the way the High King and Queen have the same over the entire Underground."

There was a pause as Hoggle awaited more information. When none appeared to be forthcoming, he gave a gentle prompt. "And?"

"Though the wording was different, she essentially proclaimed the system as being unfair." The two exchanged a look before chuckling, the memories of another occasion when such an argument had been made. Still smiling, Jareth returned his gaze to the sky before continuing. "I must admit that I do see her point. There have been more than a few Fae rulers who cared not a whit for the well being of their subjects, their Kingdoms, using their positions and their power for personal gratification. But what she does not see, what she doesn't understand is that the magic of the Underground rectifies that situation on its own. It may take some time, and there will likely be great suffering, but the price for such actions is always paid in full. The ideas she suggested, while presenting an immediate solution, could well cause more destruction than do any good."

Once again, there was a pause before Hoggle gave his response. "You know, yer Majesty, I knows as well as you do yerself that things be the way they be here in the Labyrinth. In the whole Underground. 'Tis the way of our very existence. But Sarah... she ain't from here. She don't know the rules, and won't until someone tells her. And even then it ain't going to be something she'll accept easily. And as fer her being stubborn," he shrugged, "yeh probably wouldn't be havin' her any other way."

"Very true. And well am I aware of it. Though it is not so much the nature of it all so much as..." Jareth hesitated, resisting the admission of the root of his discomfort. "To say I dislike the idea of leaving any disagreement or argument, however large or small, unresolved between the two of us for any length of time would be a great understatement."

"Well, she probably just needs time to think. Yeh know, calm down, be in a better frame of mind to be reasoned with, more welcoming of an explanation. When she's ready, she'll want to talk to yeh about it and she'll let yeh know, somehow."

"Wisdom from the mouth of babes"

"Eh, I'm only young when compared to yerself. I ain't no spring chicken. 'Sides, I has lots of time to think with no one to talk to outside of Didymus and Ludo. And even then, 'tis only on occasion."

Jareth's rich chuckle echoed. "Hoggle, I believe you are in need of a vacation."

"Nah," he waved a wrinkled hand in dismissal of the idea"I likes being busy. And even if I wanted one, I don't think it would let me. Not 'till these here gardens be finished, at least."

Brow furrowed, he cast a sharp look at the dwarf. "Not let you? It?"

Hoggle gestured widely. "The Labyrinth."

Jareth stared blankly as the dwarf picked up the spade once again. "I see." He stood there, continuing to stare as Hoggle returned to his work. After a few minutes, he spoke again. "Well, since you apparently have all the answers this evening, how do you suggest I go about explaining this to her?"

Hoggle shrugged. "Beats me. As yeh said yerself, she is impossibly stubborn."


	31. Reconcile the Differences

_Checked for continuity, spelling, and grammar: May 4, 2011._

**Chapter Thirty-One: Reconcile the Differences**

Agnes leaned against the bookshelf and pondered the sight of her best friend seated at one of the larger tables. Piles of what Agnes could only describe as gargantuan tomes lay scattered both on the table and the floor. The look of concentration on Sarah's face as she bent over the texts fairly made Agnes want to burst out laughing. She sauntered over and, hooking a nearby chair with her foot, dropped down to sit. "Williams, what are you doing?"

"Research," came the answer with the turn of a page. "Welcome back, by the way."

"Mm." Agnes lifted a book off the nearest pile and arched an eyebrow as she read the title. "Feudalism and Medieval Society." Five minutes of silence passed as she opened the oversized book to a random page in the middle and perused its contents. Finally, she closed the book with a grimace. "If this author speaks the same way he writes, I firmly believe anyone he talked to fell asleep on the spot. Or maybe ran away screaming."

Finally looking up, Sarah glanced at the book in front of Agnes. She grinned. "Yeah, I didn't get very far with that one, either."

"So why the sudden interest? Did you change your major in the three days its been since I saw you last and now have to do four years worth of studying in one night?"

Sarah grinned, sheepishly. "No... Jareth and I had a heated argument over some of the more outrageous concepts. At least to my twentieth Century feminist and humanist influenced way of thinking."

"You argued over," she paused, incredulous, "feudalism."

"Basically." She caught Agnes dumbfounded look. "What?"

"Normal people argue about things like, oh, I don't know, children, finances, insults, hurt feelings, leaving dirty socks all over the house. Then there's you."

Sarah sighed. "I know, it's ridiculous. But it seemed awfully important to stand firm on my opinions at the time."

"Natch. But what does your argument have to do with this mess?" Agnes gestured to the piles.

"Well, I ran into Edmund when I came back and he advised me to invite Jareth to apologize first."

"Good advice."

"Yes, he said you'd probably recommend that. Anyway, I decided that, apologies or not, the whole argument could very well arise again. And, since I wanted something more substantial to base my arguments on, I thought I'd do some research."

"And the result so far?"

"That I really didn't know what I was talking about and was rather unfair about the issue."

Agnes snorted. "Never concede defeat."

Sarah grinned. "Aggie, I love you dearly, but Jareth is not Edmund. I don't think the former needs to win quite to the same extent that the latter does. Or at least to the same extent that _you think _the latter does."

"Hmph. Are you interpreting my relationship with Edmund as something more than it is? Not that it's a relationship, per se."

"Of course not. I'm just saying your guys' arguments might be solved differently than ours."

Agnes dubious scowl quickly transformed into a grin. "'Ours', is it? Have you finally admitted to a different status than 'I like him'?"

Sarah grinned back. "Maybe..."

"Cool. Now come on. Let's go grab dinner and you can explain in greater detail this heated argument of yours and how, precisely, that factors into your romantic development. And then I can tell you how much I despise Psychology retreats. I'll help you put these books away so we can get out of here before that dragon of a librarian comes in for the evening."

"Oh, good call," Sarah replied, hauling a pile of books to her hip as she rose from the table. "She drives me crazy."

* * *

It was well into the evening and Sarah was rather glad she did not have class in the morning. She highly doubted sleep would come any time soon, if at all. She was in bed, lying on her stomach with her chin propped up on her knuckles. All the indoor lights were out but, as her blinds were cracked open, the room was dimly lit by the lights shining on the path around the dorm. She always wished it would be the light of the moon, but such romance must be sacrificed for the safety of students who were determined to be night owls.

Tonight, it did not bother her for in the light she could clearly see the crystal that lay on the pillows before her. She poked at it briefly, watching it roll back and forth over the lumpy stand, entranced at how it shimmered and, at times, nearly glowed from within.

Her talk with Agnes at dinner had left her feeling a little better, though in truth it was Edmund who had given her the comfort she needed. Agnes, however, gave her the confidence to make amends. He friend gave her all manner of advice and schemes, but Sarah had already formulated her own plan and merely needed reassurance that it was not a terrible idea. Agnes, in her lighthearted yet critical way, had done just that. Inadvertently, Sarah conceded, for had asked directly she would have preferred Sarah to fire up for another round or four.

After dinner, Sarah put all the pieces of her puzzle together. The only problem left was how to let Jareth know she wanted to see him.

_Maybe I blew it completely. Maybe I had my one chance and that was it. Way to go there, slick. Of course, Jareth is Jareth, so maybe he won't let a little thing like this get in the way of what he wants._

_Assuming he still wants it. ... Now there's a thought. Probably one I shouldn't entertain._

_But _I _still want it. I had no idea what a small threat to... to... to whatever it is that we had up 'till now would do to my sense of well-being, of safety, of certainty. It has been as though my world was in a state of unravelling, not falling into place._

_But now... what if..._

_No, that isn't how it is. He will come, eventually. And I will show him, tell him._

This went on for some time. And as her hand closed over the crystal, her eyes closing and submitting to sleep, her thoughts were still on Jareth: _I would face the Labyrinth itself just to see him again..._

* * *

It was the gentle breeze on her cheek and the smell of wildflowers that prompted Sarah to open her eyes. She sat up, slowly, and peered down the hill. There lay a site she had not seen from this angle in years. It's glittering walls, winding and twisting, stretched far into the distance. She stood, not blinking, entranced by the sight that had once frightened her so. But now... now it inspired her with awe and, oddly, hope.

She took a few steps forward, stopping when her bare feet left the softness of the patch of flowers and touched hard, bare earth. Looking down, she found she was dressed in her pajamas, a set of green flannel with bright orange giraffes prancing happily in beach scenes. It was the only confirmation she needed that she was, in fact, not dreaming. Somehow, she had truly been transported back to the Labyrinth. Had it been a dream, her subconscious would certainly have clothed her in something more appropriate. Certainly have given her shoes.

But, no. And she was glad for it. Looking forward once more, determined and rejuvenated, she stepped toward the first set of walls knowing the prize for completing the Labyrinth this time was no less precious than the last, and no less life-changing should she fail.

And she stepped forward, ready with an answer should the question come.

* * *

Jareth bolted to an upright position. He had been lounging in his study, admittedly petulant and sulking, for he had yet to come to a conclusion as to what to do next, how to make Sarah see that his point of view, nay, that his very position in life was not as horrendous as she seemed to think.

Then, abruptly, she vanished.

Though she had not given him access to her thoughts, he had felt her presence lingering on the outskirts of his own for months, if not years. It was steadily growing, an encouraging sign as far as he was concerned.

But now she was no longer there.

Immediately, he conjured up a crystal and did what he had resisted doing since she first expressed her objections to the action. He looked for her in all her usual haunts. She was not there. It was deep into the night and, by all rights, she should have been sound asleep in bed. But it lay empty. The covers were rumpled, as though she had been there at one point.

Looking around her rooms, he saw no sign of struggle, no sign that something had caused her to leave in a hurry.

As he gave her bedroom a second perusal, he saw something that both startled and comforted him. Rather, it was what he did not see.

The crystal he had given her to shield her dreams from intrusion was not in its stand by her bedside. Which only meant she had taken it with her, wherever it was that she happened to be. Little harm would come to her before warning would be sent to him.

Still, he could not sense her _anywhere_. This unknown stirred him deeply with confusion and, he could not deny, with fear.

* * *

Sarah approached the wall. This time, there was no Hoggle spraying fairies to help her inside. She looked left and right, yet saw no door.

_Things are not always as they seem..._

Lifting one hand to touch the wall, she realized it was not empty. Turning it over to look at the crystal briefly, she smiled tenderly and tucked it in a pockets in her pajamas. She turned her attention once more to the wall, and pondered it.

"Hm... I wonder..." she murmured.

Closing her eyes, she envisioned the doors as she saw them the first time, so many years ago. Raising her now empty hand, she gently rapped on the wall. Instead of knuckles touching stone, she could feel aged wood as the knock echoed inside.

With a smile, Sarah opened her eyes and watched as the large doors opened before her, stepping back slightly to give them the room they would need. "Thank you," she said, though who, precisely, she was thanking she did not know. She did not think it mattered. And so, she stepped through the doorway and, remembering the worm and Hoggle's initial parting remarks, continued to walk forward through the walls before her until she reached the next path. Unnoticed, The doors closed silently behind her, wood fading into stone once more.

* * *

Time, in the Underground, moves differently than in the Mortal World. Some would speculate that it truly does not move much at all. Had the subject come up to Jareth in what had been the past three mortal hours, he would have tossed the speculator off one of the castle balconies with no thought to any consequences. As luck would have it, he had been bothered by no one. A knock on his study door, interrupting his frenetic pacing, brought him back to the reality that, while he might be concerned for something, or someone, dear to his heart, life continues at its normal pace for the rest of the world.

He attempted to school his voice so it showed neither concern nor impatience. "Come in."

The door opened marginally and a well-dressed Goblin squeezed in bearing a silver tray covered in neat stacks of papers. Jareth gestured his seneschal over to his desk and seated himself, trying to put himself in the correct state of mind. _Business as usual, I suppose._

* * *

She would never say that the Labyrinth was easier this time around. If nothing else, she was exhausted from lack of sleep, and her feet hurt from walking barefoot on the stone paths. She could only imagine how filthy they were becoming, a thought that brought a weary smile to her lips.

The puzzle of the Labyrinth was as challenging as ever. However, she had run into none of the same odd characters as before. Not that she was expecting to. But with the exception of the odd chicken now and again, she saw no signs of life. There were no unexpected twists and turns, no oubliettes revealing themselves at random, no trick questions. Not even the walls had started to shift.

And the Labyrinth had no ominous feeling to it either. She felt as though she was being observed, yes. But patiently, and kindly. And so she made her way through as best she could, running into dead ends now and then, and only pausing briefly when she lost her breath after running too far, too fast.

The one thing she was certain of was that Jareth was not watching her. The knowledge had disoriented her at first, but then she began to wonder if her being here was not his doing as she initially thought. Perhaps, in her odd thoughts before she felt herself falling asleep she had called to the Labyrinth itself, and it was giving her a chance to prove herself and her devotion after so short a time, especially considering how determined she had been to resist it.

The scenery began to change, the style of the walls developed, broke down again, then became hedges. She could see the Castle in the distance, much nearer than she would have expected. She had no idea how long she had been at it, it seemed like extensive hours and brief minutes at the same time. Without pausing in her maneuvering of corners and choices of turns, she wondered aloud, "Would it be cheating to just go straight through the hedges? Assuming I even have the strength to break through the branches." She chuckled, and shook her head, pausing at a T in the road. "Would I go left, or right..." she muttered, putting her weight first on one foot and then the other as she shook them out to revive feeling in her toes.

Before she could come to a conclusion, however, the hedges shook violently. And with a terrible yawning sound they opened to provide a straight path to the gates of the Goblin City in the distance.

She blinked, wide mouthed. "Okay, then. Thanks!" And taking a deep breath, she started on this new path, still at least a mile to go.

* * *

His regular work done for the moment, Jareth dismissed the various staff and servants who had gathered in the Study. Through it all, he was restless, frustrated, filled with flashes of anger at nothing and everything, and above all, worried. It had taken all his effort to not release any of this upon his subjects.

Suddenly painfully tired, he retreated to a room where no one would dare bother him. A room he had left untouched in the whole remodel of Castle and City. A room he had not entered even a single time since the day Sarah defeated the Labyrinth and defeated its King.

* * *

In many ways, going through the City itself was more of a puzzle than the actual labyrinth of the Labyrinth. It had changed in remarkable ways. Colorful pennants hung from windows and off rooftops. Even doors and shutters were painted bright. She wandered into one alley and came out the other side into a bustling market square. Fresh produce and hand crafted wares were being hawked from all directions. The chickens here were plump and clucked almost happily as they pecked along the cobblestones.

_And am I actually smelling apple pie?_ The trays of baked goods cooling on a large table, under guard by a stern looking Goblin with a crisp apron and a jolly gleam in her eye confirmed what her nose had already discovered. _Amazing..._

Curious stares met her wherever she went, but they bore no malice. She saw faces of Goblin children peek out of windows, they stopped their play in the streets to openly gawk at this oddly clad stranger. She found a stream cut through part of the City, the water clear and bubbling merrily as it swiftly ran its course. At its bend, a large pile of rocks stood almost as a monument to something. _Could it be for the battle in the City?_

Though she wanted to linger, to see what else had changed and to what extent, Sarah knew she should stay on task. Dodging through a few more alleys until she found more of a main road and continued on to the Castle.

She saw no sign of the Gardens she had been brought to a few nights previous, but she laughed at the sight of the milk bottles on the doorstep. The two guards, brightly alert this day, nodded at her as she approached and allowed her to enter with no confrontation. "Thank you," she told them, curious as to the reason but in too much of a hurry to ask.

Once she entered the Castle, it was as though she had been transported back in time. The throne room was precisely as she remembered, down to the odd little piles of rubbish and the stairs leading around the left. Its consistency stunned her more than did the changes.

For the first time on this new journey, she was truly uneasy. She took a few, shaky breaths and mounted the steps leading to the Escher Room.


	32. Voices from the Past

_Author's Note: Thanks for all the support, guys._

___Checked for continuity, spelling, and grammar: May 4, 2011._  


**Chapter Thirty-Two: Voices from the Past**

She stood before him, once again in the room that had seemed a recreation of a famous Escher print. Of all the places in the Kingdom, of all the rooms in the Castle, this one Jareth had left untouched and unrepaired.

_**Give me the child...**_

Even now, pieces of stone walls and stairs floated around them, faded and blurred as though shrouded by a mist outside of time. All around them, whispers from the past fell, silver glistening on the air. The words echoed, weaving a delicate pattern with threads of the magic belonging to the place, the Labyrinth, the entire Kingdom.

_**Sarah, beware...**_

Amid it all, they stood, oblivious to everything except each other.

_**I have been generous up till now...**_

He was in the shadows, watching her with the piercing look of a hunter narrowing in on his prey, occasionally flickering to a haunted, pained expression.

_**But I can be cruel...**_

That she walked in, unexpected, unannounced, with no warning at all, surprised him on numerous levels.

_**Generous... What have you done that's generous...**_

She stepped into the centre of the room. Her face unreadable, eyes open wide. Deep pools regarding him, watching him in return.

_**Everything...**_

As she stepped into the light, her clothes transformed seemingly of their own volition. The long, white gown shimmered as she moved, bare toes peeking out from the hem as she walked.

_**Everything you have wanted I have done...**_

Clad as before, all in white, every inch the Goblin King she had fought and feared, she could not find the Jareth she had so recently grown close to.

_**You asked that the child be taken, and I took him...**_

He watched as she stopped at the center of the room, her eyes never leaving him. Her breath quickening as the silence between them continued.

_**You cowered before me, and I was frightening...**_

She stood her ground, slowly turning her head to watch him as he methodically began pacing around her, always in the shadows just on the other side of the light.

_**I have reordered time...**_

Behind her, out of her sight, he finally spoke.

_**I have turned the world upside down...**_

"Why have you come here, Sarah."

_**And I have done it all for you...**_

"To find you." She said it simply, stated it for the fact that it was.

_**I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me...**_

"To what end?" He stopped pacing, once more in front of her. "What could you possibly gain?"

_**Isn't that generous...**_

"Gain?" Confusion graced her expression, followed by hurt and anger that vanished as quickly as it came. "Is that what you think of me? That I would only come to you with the intent to use you?"

_**Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered...**_

"No." He paused, regarding her. "This is not your world. You do not know what the slightest action can find for a result."

_**I have fought my way to the Castle beyond the Goblin City...**_

"So I do not belong here? I should not have come?"

_**For my will is as strong as yours...**_

"What do you want from me, Sarah?"

_**Stop... Wait...**_

She broke his gaze, looking at blocks floating around them. "I don't want anything from you, Jareth. Except forgiveness, perhaps, for foolishness."

_**Look Sarah...**_

Though she looked away, he could not miss the tears filling her eyes. He emerged from the shadows, slowly walking toward her.

_**Look what I am offering you...**_

"And if, instead, I offer you everything? What would you do, Sarah?" With a flick of his wrist, Jareth offered her a crystal, just within reach.

_**Your dreams...**_

Her eyes closed, a pained smile graced her lips. "I thought at one point that all you wanted was to possess me...

_**And my kingdom as great...**_

...like a trophy, on a wall...

_**I ask for so little...**_

...or a puppet whose strings you could pull whenever you wished...

_**Just let me rule you and you can have everything that you want...**_

... But that isn't quite it, is it?"

_**My kingdom as great...**_

"Sarah-"

_**Damn, I can never remember that line...**_

"You terrify me, did you know that? What you have done. Who you are. _What_ you are. And the amount of power that you have. The things you can use it for. The things you _do_ use it for, and seemingly without a thought. Sometimes I think everything about you is so unknown and foreign that I have no chance of knowing the man you truly are beneath that arrogant and presumptuous exterior you always show."

_**Just fear me...**_

"And yet, if I really look for the answers, somehow I feel they would all be right there before me. Because that is where you are. But for some reason, the only answer I need is knowing that... that I love you. And I always have. Even when I thought I hated you. And that scares me even more."

_**Love me...**_

"But what is worse is having you stand here ready to tell me to turn around, and walk away. I cannot imagine you not being there, in my life. Not again. Please, Jareth," she wrapped her hands around the one offering the crystal, and gently pushed it toward him. "No more games, no more gifts I have no use for. All I want is right here. All I need is you. Don't shut me out. Don't make me leave. If you ask it, I will go. But don't. Please. Just tell me to stay and I will do so willingly and with all my heart."

_**Do as I say...**_

Without warning, he slipped his hand from hers, leaving the crystal resting in her palms, and closed the distance between them. "Sarah," he murmured, cupping her face, "did you really think for one moment that I could deny you anything?"

_**And I will be your slave...**_

He trailed his hands down her arms until they reached her own. With his fingertips, he gently lifted them to eye level. His voice was low, as much a caress as a whisper. "If you reject it, Sarah, truly reject it, you will leave here and never again return, for there will be nothing left to return to. It contains not only your dreams, but my own. Accept what I offer. Become mine alone as I have been only yours since last we met on this spot. Bring our dreams to life and unite them. Make them one, as we shall be."

There was immediate silence around them as the floating objects came to a halt. Even the air paused, fairly bursting with a magic still unnoticed by the two it surrounded.

Eyes brimming with tears, she searched his own for a long moment. Without breaking contact, she slowly closed her hands around the delicate sphere. Enfolding her hands within his, he brought them to his lips and fell to his knees. "Sarah," he breathed, feeling her tremble as the crystal disappeared, "open your hands."

She did so, her gaze drifting from his face to their hands. There, tangled in their fingers, was a gold chain. And, in the centre of her palms, a pendant. It too was gold, formed in the shape of a crescent. Embedded in the centre was a circular medallion of silver, engraved with a variation of the symbol she recognized as being for infinity. "This is..." her brow furrowed. "You wore this. Before."

"It is one of the symbols of my power, so to speak," he said, watching her face. "It disappeared with the destruction of my Kingdom." When she moved to give it to him, he stopped her. Disentangled his fingers from the chain, he closed her hands around it once more. Holding them gently, he said, softly, "No, Sarah. It is yours now."

Her eyes flew to his, mild confusion evident. They moved back to their hands, and he held his breath as she pulled hers free and looked at the pendant once again. "Then as it is mine," she began slowly, spreading her hands apart so the pendant dangled from its chain between them, "I would have you, Jareth, wear it for me." As she slipped the chain over his head he closed his eyes. He felt her hands linger at his shoulders, then again as she traced the shape of the symbol before letting it fall to his chest.

Before she could move away, his eyes flew open and he grabbed hold of her hands once more. She gave a startled gasp. Slowly, he rose, placing them atop the pendant where it lay close to his heart. Holding them there with one hand, he closed in on her once more and traced the side of her face. After tucking her hair behind her ear in a now familiar gesture, he clasped the side of her face and tilted it upward. Running a gloved thumb against her cheek, he leaned closer and whispered her name.

As their lips touched for the first time, the air silently exploded around them. The magic of the kingdom, slowly gathering to this place, took the form of a warm breeze, and wrapped itself around them. As they were gently lifted slightly off the ground, they finally noticed something had been going on around, though for Sarah the notice was only at the back of her mind.

Jareth, suddenly fully aware of what had just happened, simply held Sarah closer, letting the spell that would eventually bind them together completely plant its seeds.

* * *

The inhabitants of the Goblin City and the Labyrinth, indeed the entire Kingdom of Goblins, felt the land swell with magic. Slowly it built, then it felt as though time stood still. Suddenly, earth glowed, water pulsated, air hummed, and fire blazed. The plants seemed to reach up to the sky in praise, and some would later swear they heard music. Most simply wondered what their King could possibly be up to. But in the Castle Gardens, a Dwarf, a Knight, a Beast, and a handful of Castle Goblins were gathered.

"Hark!" said Sir Didymus. "Dost thou feel that?"

"Yeah, I feel it," replied Hoggle. "And I hears it too."

"What is the King doing?" one of the Goblins asked.

"It ain't His Majesty doing nothing."

The Goblins exchanged slightly concerned looks. "So... what is it?"

"It be the Labyrinth's magic, announcing His Majesty's choice of queen has accepted him. And approves, I would guess."

"Indeed! Thou speakest the truth, friend Hoggle!"

"Sawah stay," agreed Ludo.

"Ohhh," comprehension dawned on the Goblins. One spoke up, "Sounds like cause for a little celebration. Let's get to the kitchens!"


	33. Good Morning

_Author's Note, May 5, 2011: See? All patience is rewarded. Oh, have I plans for this tale. One in particular involving water balloons that has been simmering on a back burner for years. Literally, years. How's that for a teaser to keep you reading? _

**Chapter Thirty-Three: Good Morning**

"Sarah, how did you come here tonight?" The couple had remained in the Escher Room, moving from the lit platform at the center to one of the pieces of stone stairway, lingering on the edge of the shadows. They spoke softly there, in the shadows. Apologies were made on both sides and forgiveness was granted. Sweet nothings were whispered, long silences were comfortable, and now and again laughter would echo. Thus, several hours passed.

Sarah blinked at Jareth, sleepily. "I took the stairs."

He smiled. "No, I mean how did you come Underground?"

She shrugged. "I fell asleep holding the crystal you gave me, thinking of you, thinking that... I would not mind facing the Labyrinth again. When I woke up, I was here. Well," she interrupted herself with a yawn. "Oh, sorry. Not here, precisely. Back on that hill above the gate."

His brow furrowed. "You traversed the Labyrinth? A second time?" She nodded. _That should not have been possible. Not without my knowing. _He suddenly recalled what she wore before she stepped into the light. "Barefoot?" At her second nod, his alarm that the magic of his Kingdom had acted seemingly on its own quickly shifted to irritation. "Do you mean to tell me walked all this way, all night long, with nothing on your feet?" _And then when she comes here, you leave her unshod? _That the magic surrounding them suddenly gave the sense of being embarrassed and chagrined nearly made him sigh. _Later,_ he thought, _deal with it later..._

Sarah was nodding again, her eyelids dropping slightly as she stifled another yawn. "Mmhmm. But I had my pajamas on. I'm not sure what happened to them." She looked up at him, her eyes wide, suddenly upset. "Oh no! The crystal was in my pocket!"

He stroked her hair, smiling. "It will turn up, eventually." She looked content at that. And beautiful, he noticed, but exhausted. "You look tired. I suppose I should return you home for what is left of the night."

In response, she wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into his chest with her head tucked beneath his chin. "Not yet."

"What of your R.A. duties?"

"It's not my turn to keep the vacuum."

He did not entirely know what that meant and her response had been barely audible, but she did not seem to be in any real condition to explain. "Then stay."

"I have class in the afternoon. It's the impossible one, but we're supposed to be getting another paper assignment."

"I can have you back for that." When she did not respond for several minutes, he looked down. Her eyes were closed. "Sarah?"

"Mmm."

Her breathing was slow, steady. "Are you asleep?"

"Mmm."

"Ah." Kissing the top of her head, breathing her in, Jareth gathered Sarah in his arms and vanished. When he reappeared in the bedroom, he wondered if she would be put out at his "poofing" without her knowledge. It made him chuckle as he lay her on the bed, but she did not stir, even as he pulled the blankets over her. Smoothing her hair away from her face, he vanished again.

* * *

Sarah woke slowly, stretching her legs and feeling silk brush against her toes. _That's not right,_ she thought. _I have flannel. _She cracked her eyes open, letting them adjust to the sunlight streaming in a window, then lifted her head to look around. She was alone in the burgundy room, nestled in a bed of feather pillows and fluffy blankets. Though she had only been here once before, and that time was brief, Sarah recognized where she was and it made her smile. The memory of the night before flooded into her mind as she lay back down again. Much of what went on she did not understand, but found she genuinely did not care. She knew where she stood, was nearly certain she knew where Jareth stood, and that was enough. _The rest_ _will come in time, I suppose. _The events played out in her mind again and she smiled blissfully. As more details came back, she peeked under the blankets. She sighed with relief to find her giraffe pajamas had reappeared. Reaching into a pocket, she pulled out the crystal that had vanished the night before.

"I suppose I should get up," she told it, quietly, "maybe go find him. Hm." This prompted her to wonder where Jareth might be. And, for that matter, what time it was.

"The King of the Goblins, is likely in his study, working on something unknown though I suspect I could guess if I felt the need, and waiting for you to rise." The voice came from across the room. "And it is shortly past dawn."

Startled, Sarah sat bolt upright, the crystal rolling into her lap as she pulled the blankets up around her in a self-protective gesture. She twisted where she sat, eyes lighting on a woman lounging elegantly on the window seat. She was more beautiful than anyone Sarah had ever seen, in person, in pictures, anyone, and more beautiful still than Sarah had ever imagined was possible. She was smiling at Sarah, gently and with kindness. Still, Sarah struggled to contain her fear at the unannounced presence. _I thought they weren't supposed to be able to do that... _"You are one of the Fae, aren't you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

She regarded the young Mortal before her, sitting so still and breathing so deliberately in an effort to remain calm. Yet her eyes, deep and brown, belied her inner feelings. They hid nothing, every emotion was plainly written, her vulnerability and insecurity, the nervousness that was slowly growing for all she was trying to hold it back. "Child, calm yourself. I have no intention of causing your harm." Her smile deepened as Sarah blinked, confusion added to the mix. "When Jareth announced he would be taking a Mortal lover-"

"Lov- _Announced!_" Sarah had not intended her interruption to be audible and blushed, slightly embarrassed.

She found the slight panic that had crept into Sarah's voice unexpectedly endearing. "There is nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a perfectly acceptable progression of events."

"Is it?" _How can she be so casual about this? And I thought dorm gossip was bad._

"Our people have slightly more," she searched for the simplest way to explain it, "open viewpoint on this sort of thing. Especially in regards to the High Court, most feel it is a right to know. And only the two of us know, so it is not really gossip, per se."

"How did you-" Sarah shook her head, wary, but bewilderment was running alongside her fear. "I'm sorry, but... Who _are _you, exactly?"

"I am the High Queen of the Fae." As this sunk in, Sarah visibly paled. _Hm. A different tactic, perhaps._ "Perhaps that was not the best way to introduce myself. Please, accept my apology for causing you discomfort."

"_Discomfort_?"

The strength of incredulity in the look Sarah was giving Titania gave her pause. "Do you know, this is not going at all how I had planned?"

All capability for tact had departed. "Just how did you think it would go? You," she gestured at the woman sitting before her, "are apparently a queen, are absolutely stunning, and I'm just... me. And am sitting here in my pajamas." At that, Sarah suddenly turned bright red and buried her face in her hands. "Oh, man..."

Titania blinked several times. "Hm. I see your point. Let me try again." Sarah looked up, still faintly pink. "I am delighted to finally meet you. I confess I should have waited for a more appropriate situation, but I also confess I have never liked to wait. In less formal situations and among friends, I am called Titania."

"I'm just Sarah."

"Just?" Titania laughed, musically. "I doubt you have ever been _just_ anything." _Especially to Jareth..._

"Um, thank you." There was a lull as the two regarded each other, considering. Abruptly, though, Sarah became curious. "Wait, did you say 'Titania'? As in Titania and Ob-"

She sighed, long suffering, though the sparkle that came into Sarah's eyes when she made the connection intrigued her. "How that... playwright ever came up with our names I will never know." There was another sigh. "Yes, though admit I despise the comparison."

"But it is such a fun story."

"Perhaps, but I find it slightly defames Our character."

Sarah thought about that, briefly. "Oh. I had not thought of it that way."

"Perhaps it is what you deserve."

Titania's eyes flicked to the figure who had appeared seconds before, lounging on the bed beside Sarah, protectively close yet not touching her. His eyes were narrowed and he glared at the High Queen in irritation, making it clear he did not approve of the intrusion on Sarah's privacy. "So much for protocol," he quipped.

She shrugged. "I got tired of waiting."

"Clearly."

"You need not be so angry. You know there is no other who would dare your wrath by doing the same."

"Yet here you are."

Sarah slowly pulled her gaze from Titania to look at Jareth. He did not return her gaze but continued to glare. As Sarah looked back at Titania, he reached over and took her hand, gently kissing her fingertips. He then rubbed his thumb across her knuckles and she realized his hands were bare. The realization momentarily startled her, and even as delight coursed through her she suddenly felt very shy at this display.

Once again, Titania was struck by the way every emotion poured out openly through those eyes. _I will mourn the day when she must become guarded before all. And I will curse those who dare to take advantage. _"Well, Jareth, as I was just about to tell your Sarah here, when you told Us of your choice, I never would have expected to find such innocence, or find her so charming."

"Now there is a delightful commentary on what you think of _my_ character, Your Majesty."

She scoffed at him. "You may have changed overnight, Goblin King, but you cannot erase the past."

"As though I need the reminder."

Silence fell over the room. Titania continuing to regard the couple, not bothering to hid her curiosity a mask of collected control. Jareth continued to glare, though his irritation softened and everyone in the room understood it was more for show than anything else. For her part, Sarah started tuning them both out. Her focus transferred to a slight buzzing of emotion at the back of her mind. None of it was hers, however. As she concentrated on what it could be, the buzzing ebbed until it faded completely, leaving behind what she could only describe as whispers of the feelings of someone else. Instinct told her that someone was Jareth and the more she thought on it, on him, the louder those whispers became.. _But what does it mean?_

"Indeed. Tell me, Goblin King," Titania finally broke the silence, necessity for answers finally outweighing the curiosity she held for more information about Sarah, "as you are here it must be asked: By what right did you initiate the ceremony that will bind you to this woman?"

Though they held no malice, Jareth bristled slightly at Titania's choice of words describing Sarah. He knew, however, the question would be asked again, and by others far less sympathetic to his cause than Their Majesties and that her choice was quite deliberate. He answered, simply, "_I_ did nothing."

His response met with the expected reaction. Titania's demeanor changed immediately. Surprise exploded across her features as she sat up, intense. "Really." At Jareth's nod, she stood. Jareth rose as well and Sarah made to follow suit. Before she could move, Titania held a hand out, forestalling. "No, stay." Coming forward, she tipped Sarah's face up with one finger, meeting her eyes and searching them briefly. Finally, she smiled. "You are unlike any Mortal I have ever met. I am looking forward to knowing you better. Certainly you will catch the members of the High Court off guard and I daresay they could use it, though I suspect what lies ahead will not come easy." Her eyes met Jareth's. "I swear on the life of my beloved, she will be protected. But haste must be made. I must go to Oberon now; he will contact you soon." With one lingering, delighted glance at Sarah, she vanished.

Sarah looked up at Jareth. He was contemplating the spot Titania had just vacated and felt he was relieved though concern was lingering and just a little bit... sad. Not knowing what else to do, she said, "Well. I don't suppose this means I have to skip my one o'clock English class, does it?"

"You said last night that you should not miss it."

He apparently missed her attempt to lighten the mood. "Should not and cannot are two separate things. I will not leave you if you do not wish it."

He finally looked down, meeting her eyes. He knew what she was offering and that, though the offer was genuine and heartfelt, she was only just beginning to understand what it meant. Titania had told him haste was in essence, but he refused to push too far too fast. He smiled at her. "I would not have you regret missing something that need not be avoided."

She snorted. "Believe me, of all the things in life, missing this class would be lowest on the list of what I have regrets over."

He laughed at that, and she felt a wave of adoration rush over her as he pulled her out of the bed and gathered her in his arms. "Decide later, then. For now, come. Would you break your fast with me?"

The phrasing amused her. "Yes, please." Then she hesitated. "Should I change? You're already dressed..."

"If you would be more comfortable." At her nod, he looked down. Fingering the hem of her top with one hand, he pointed at one of the frolicking creatures. "What are these?"

Sarah looked down at her pajamas. "What, the giraffes?"

"Giraffes." The word rolled off his tongue, like he was tasting something foreign and did not know if it should be delicious.

"Don't tell me you don't know what a giraffe is?" When he shook his head in denial, she shook hers in disbelief. "That's it. Next time you visit, we are going to the zoo."

"Zoo?"


	34. Questions Over Breakfast

_Author's Note, May 9, 2011: I almost titled this one: The Chapter of Exposition. Part of this chapter was actually conceived while I was writing for Meet Me at the Faire. After struggling with how to put what I was trying to say into the context of that story, I realized it made more sense here. It sort of sums up a lot that I've been hinting at in that story, and much of what I have explained in brief here. And that is what prompted the writing of the previous chapter so I could get this one out, too. Lucky readers! Two in such a short time after so long an absence! Many of you read both stories, so I thought you might enjoy that tidbit._

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Questions Over Breakfast**

They sat in Jareth's study on an ornate but comfortable couch. Sarah was in one corner, taking in the towering expanse of books. Jareth opposite her, lounged with one leg propped up on the couch, his elbow draped atop his knee. A Goblin had just left the room, leaving a tray on the low table before them. There was a small plate nearly overflowing with fruit and cheeses, a small loaf of fresh bread, and a pot of tea. Jareth watched, bemused, as Sarah heavily doctored her tea.

"What can I say?" she said with a shrug, noticing his look. "I like sugar."

"Duly noted." When she finished, he leaned over and took her cup, setting it closer to him on the table. He then deftly snaked one arm around her waist and turned her around as he pulled her into him, leaning back. He waited until she relaxed against him, then set the plate in her lap snagging a strawberry off the top of the pile for himself. "Well, Sarah. I suppose you have some questions."

"Oh, absolutely."

Her wry tone made him chuckle. "Ask away."

"Hm." She adjusted her position as she thought, curling her legs under her and tucking the long, flowing skirt around her once-again bare feet. The same Goblin maid that had helped her dress before had done so again and, rather than engage in a battle of wills regarding Sarah's choices in clothing, she seemed to be taking the approach of convincing Sarah what would be appropriate one garment piece at a time. Today's challenge was footwear and, while even Sarah admitted the slippers were lovely, she just did not find them all that comfortable, kicking them off under the table as soon as she sat on the couch. "She read my mind."

There was no question who 'she' was. "Yes, she does that."

"I thought your people were not supposed to do that in your own homes."

He sighed. "It is generally not done at all. It takes a great deal of effort for most of the Fae to touch the inner thoughts of another that they are not bound to. Some will, at times, attempt it if they think there is something to be gained, information or a weapon against an enemy. But it is rarely worth the effort. As for the boundaries of a home, most Fae cannot and would not bother to try. Of the ones that would, most would not dare to make an attempt to break my walls. Truly, it is not something you should worry about."

"You keep saying 'most'."

"The High King and Queen never qualify as 'most'."

"So they can and do at will?"

"When the whim strikes them."

"And how often is that?"

"That is hard to say. It gives them an edge over the rest of the High Court. Having this ability can prevent rebellion and war, and has. Just knowing they can makes you think twice about what your plans are. But they rarely acknowledge it whether or not they are doing it, so it is hard to tell. I personally believe the do it constantly, perhaps out of habit, perhaps deliberately. It is simply part of who and what they are. In the case of this morning, I would wager she was testing you."

"Oh, well that's comforting." Again, her wry tone made him chuckle. "So do I have to meet her again?"

"There is no getting around it. The King must meet you at least once. To them, I am an ally of sorts, especially in recent years, and I have always ranked high in the High Court, so there are likely official functions and meetings that will require it. And she seems to like you so your company may be requested with some frequency." He felt a shift in her comfort as that sank in. "This really bothers you, doesn't it?"

"You are surprised? Maybe if I could do it back it would be different." There was a shrug." It just seems so unfair." She held up one finger even as he opened his mouth to speak. "Don't even say it."

He chuckled again and kissed the back of her neck. "I suppose you will get used to it, eventually. It is the way of things here."

A tiny, happy thrill ran down her spine at the implication that statement held, but it soon put her in mind of something else. "Do you make... public statements about the things that go on in your private life?"

"Me, personally, or me, 'all of the Fae'?"

"You, personally."

"Never, why?"

"She said you announced me as your 'Mortal lover'." Sarah was clearly mortified at the thought of so many, especially those she knew nothing about, knowing something about her that she had not even begun to wrap her brain around.

Jareth smiled. "I told the High King and Queen about my intentions-"

"You told them your intentions are to take me as your _lover_?" She turned to face him, her eyes were narrowed suspiciously even as her tone indicated further embarrassment.

"Among other things, yes." His smile turned deliberately wicked, eliciting the indignant glare he had hoped for. "Actually, when I first began to pursue you, I needed advice. When that happens, they are who I turn to. Members of the High Court, particularly the Royal Fae, have few confidants. And if we cannot confide in Their Majesties, we are all lost. At that time, I had little doubt what I wanted from you and as we have already covered, there is little I could hide from them."

"Hm. All right, I'll buy into that I suppose. Why didn't she just say that you told her, then? Why use, 'announced'?"

"Most likely to test you again, see how you would react."

She sighed, setting the now mostly empty plate aside. "There is going to be more of this, isn't there?" He nodded. "And not just from the High King and Queen." Another nod. "But probably no more surprise visits while I am still in bed?"

His look darkened. "There will be none. And even though it is technically within her right, she should not have done so, either."

"I don't get it, Jareth." She leaned back against him once more, stretching her legs out and flexing her toes. "All these rules and contradictions, the games it sounds like everyone plays. Doesn't it drive you crazy?"

"Generally not." He held one of her hands against his own. "I keep to myself and my Kingdom. Unless asked directly, I take little interest in what goes on in the rest of the Underground."

She tilted her head to look at him. "Doesn't that get lonely?"

"It has," he looked down at her, "in the past."

"What are your intentions, Jareth? What do you want from me?"

She was getting closer to the topic he had been waiting for, the one that really mattered. "Everything."

"But... what does that mean? I'm not... like you." She spoke quietly, as though terrified of voicing her real concerns. He looked in her eyes and saw trust and fear. Smoothing her hair away from her face, and tucking a strand behind her ear, he kissed her forehead. He felt her stubborn determination to understand, to work through the bewilderment and confusion that threatened to overwhelm. Under it all, through it all, surrounding it all, he felt her love for him. "I can't... do... what you do."

He had an idea of what was behind this, what the real problem was. And he knew that when she finally cast aside the fears that went with it, new concerns would soon arise. And he knew, somehow, that she would face them. But it would not be easy, and there would be sorrow to come that he could not even begin to understand. "That is true," he conceded. "But have you noticed anything... different after last night?"

She did not need to think long. "I think I have been feeling what you are feeling. Except not feeling it, more like... hearing it."

"Essentially, yes. Something happened last night. It was not what I expected, not what I intended, and likely the reason Titania came to take your measure this morning rather than wait for a formal presentation."

He paused and Sarah could see he was struggling to find how to explain. Oddly, it gave her some comfort to see him without a ready answer for everything. She moved to get more comfortable, snuggling closer and waited.

"It may surprise you to find out that my people, we Fae, are possessive, suspicious, and jealous by nature."

She giggled. "No, really?"

"On my honor, I swear it is true. So it follows that pairings among us are generally brief because we react to betrayal, whether true or fabricated, with passion. For every Fae coupling that ends on mutual terms, many more end in heated anger, sometimes over real problems but more often over frivolous disagreements. Still, these are small fires, they burn out quickly and repairs can be made that prevent any lasting feuds, or worse.

"True, life-long unions for the Fae are rare. When a true match has been found, such as that of Oberon and Titania, the couple is bound together, heart to heart, life to life, with magic. Unions such as these have great potential to end in disaster. Wars have been started, massacres have taken place, all in the name of a betrayed heart. And the quickest way to destroy your enemy is to destroy his or her bonded life mate. It is something that is not to be entered into lightly."

"I imagine not."

"There are essentially three steps to the true bonding of the Fae. The first happens the moment when two who are destined for each other meet, their magic within calling to the other. It is like... like..." he struggled once again with the right words.

"Like a little bit of your soul has ventured out to hold hands with another. Like two halves that never knew they were broken suddenly trying to become whole." She had her head on his chest and was tracing the pattern of his pendant with one finger.

"Yes, actually." He had to admit being momentarily taken aback at her ability to express it so eloquently, so simply, before reminding himself that he should never underestimate her. _Besides, _he thought, _she might be __gaining insight and understanding from elsewhere... _"For whatever reason, they do not know that their magic is calling out, only that they are being called out to. From that time on, they are drawn to each other. Before courtship can begin, however, Their Majesties must give their blessing."

"But why?" she interrupted.

He knew without asking she was once again questioning the need for such interference into private matters. "Imagine if two Fae bonded in secret and something happens to drive them apart, ripping apart the fabric of this world at the same time. They are tied to the magic of all the Kingdoms of the Fae, some more than others but if for no other reason than to know if a match has been made. By knowing about it, they can monitor the situation should things start moving toward a dangerous state or even if an attempt is made to politicize the bonding."

"So it is... less an insatiable need to meddle and more an issue of damage control?"

"Well, yes." He could not help but chuckle at the fact that this simple idea seemed to set her mind at ease. "During the courtship process, a rather overly ritualized affair because that is the way the Fae like to do things, certain spells are worked that link the two closer together over time."

"How long does it usually last?"

"Courting?" He felt her nod. "A couple hundred years, at least." He noticed Sarah saddened at this, but continued on without acknowledging it. "The final spell is initiated by Their Majesties in a grand ceremony. Then comes this arduous process with more ritual involving members from the High Court at the end of which Their Majesties seal the bond, a bond that can only be broken by death."

Her sadness was quickly falling into anguish and he hastened to get to the point. She could, and would, ask after the finer details later. "You asked what after my intentions. From the start, I had thought to have you join me here for whatever time and enjoyment we might have. Fae have coupled with Mortals in the long past, and while it is brief in the terms of our lives, it can still be glorious. I confess to unexpectedly and rather quickly becoming somewhat obsessed, driven to pursue you without knowing why. It was not until that night after your performance, the night I saw you in person for the first time since you defeated the Labyrinth that it became clear that this was more than a simple infatuation. I knew then that you are the one my heart has been waiting for, my other half. I received Their Majesties' blessing almost immediately, to pursue you and bring you here, binding my life to yours and convincing you to bind yours to mine in that ancient ritual."

She placed both hands on his chest and, pushing away, turned until she knelt, sitting on her heels before him. The despair in her eyes nearly broke his heart. "How can you be so ready to... to bind your life, your eternal Fae life to mine, that of a human? A _Mortal_ human?"

"Because, Sarah, I already had." Her brow furrowed and he could see in her eyes as easily as he sensed her doubt and resistance. "Do you not see, Sarah? I was lost to you from the moment we first met. Call it fate, call it higher powers, call it what you will. Though even now there are things I do not yet have the answers to, from what I can surmise, when you came into contact with me for the first time, at the moment you were first confronted with my magic, something about you resonated with the magic that encompasses my entire Kingdom. It bound me to you more deeply than I could have ever imagined, than I ever hoped, ever believed to have the chance to be bound to another."

She was flabbergasted. "But I was only fourteen!"

He shrugged one shoulder. "True, but if you were a Fae, you would have still heard it sing. I would have known what you would be to me, and we would have been able to walk away until such a time you were of age.

"But I'm _not_ a Fae... I'm just-"

"Never," it came out more harshly than he intended, "refer to yourself as 'just' anything, never compare yourself to those of my kind. Perhaps you are _just_ my match, _just _my beloved, _just _more important and dear to me than any I have ever met. But only in as much as I am _just _a simple man." He supposed that sounded rather arrogant, but it made his point so he cared little about the tone.

"Has this... bonding ever happened between a Fae and a Mortal before?"

"No. My people have coupled with Mortals before, but the unions have always been... brief. Especially in our regard of time."

She knew what he meant. "But if you become linked to my life, dependent upon it, what happens when... when..." She could not bear to voice her fear, knowing he would understand.

Even without words, he did. "It is quite simple, really. Your life will be joined with mine, making you as immortal as I am."

She was still doubtful. "Not the other way around? Even in the slightest?" He smiled, shaking his head no. She regarded him for a long while. "I'm still not sure I believe that is possible."

"You do not have to. Time will prove everything, and we have all that in the world now. For now, allow the knowledge to reassure you and know that I believe it. And, if it matters, so do Their Majesties."

"Hm. How can you be so certain it will work at all?"

"Because, apparently," he reached over, stroking her face, "we are already halfway there."

She blinked, surprised. "What?"

"The magic has already begun its work. It is changing you, Sarah. That it did so without your knowledge, understanding, or acceptance, I am sorry. But you would not be able to know my emotions so closely had it not.

Her forehead wrinkled. "You said blessing, which you already got, courtship, which takes hundreds of years, then ceremony thing. Now I know hundreds of years has not passed but..." She suddenly remembered the conversation of the morning. "She thought you initiated the ceremony, and you said you didn't. So someone else did?"

He nodded. "More like some_thing_."

"The Labyrinth?" He nodded again and she fell backward, into the opposite corner of the couch. "You know, this is an awful lot to take in."

"There is more."

Her silence at that said a thousand words and, as the sentiment transferred into the way she looked at him, he laughed. That made her smile. "She said you've changed. Hoggle said you've changed. I've noticed you've changed and I barely met you before."

"All for you." He cocked his head to once side, thoughtful. "Though, in all honesty, I did not know that at the time. Either way, I am happier for it."

"Me too." In a rare moment of boldness that turned her ears slightly pink, she moved in to kiss him deeply before settling in his comfortable embrace once more. "So tell me, if you are the King of the Goblins, and the Labyrinth is part of your Kingdom, and all of the magic is tuned in to you, how can you not be responsible for... whatever it was that happened."

"Ah, therein lies the tale. It will take some time to delve into the deeper workings of the Kingdom before I discover the truth in its entirety, but from my initial probings it appears a loophole was worked into the Labyrinth to prevent the King of the Goblins from ever finding his match."

"How'd that work out for you?"

He chuckled. "Some time in the past, a previous Goblin King recognized the danger of vulnerability. Rather than allow it to cause problems, he thought to block the option entirely by making it impossible for the bond to set, with or without Their Majesties' blessing, unless the Fae in question completed the Labyrinth. Simultaneously, it has always been that any Fae attempting to traverse the Labyrinth in any capacity will be sent in an an endless loop, doomed to wander without gaining any ground until released by the Goblin King."

"Thereby never truly completing it."

"Correct. It makes sense, really. The Labyrinth was never designed to test a Fae in the first place. I mentioned that some of my people have paired with a Mortal, I do not know if any suspected that a true bond could take place. I can say with certainty that none of my predecessors, my ancestors if you prefer, would have thought enough of Mortals as a whole to even entertain the idea as a lark."

"Ah, so you don't think highly of them, then?"

He snorted. "Hardly. They were more likely to be of the mind to conquer your world and enslave your people. It is disgraceful." He sighed, heavily. "No matter. It worked out in my favor in the end. Had they thought else, further preventions would have been made and you would not be here right now."

"So let me see if I have this straight. You meet me and your magic says, 'Ah ha!' But you have no idea it did so and since I have no magic to respond with, it all remained a mystery. Then, and against all odds, I complete the Labyrinth, opening the door to us one day being bound together with magic. Then, nine years later, the Labyrinth decides to defy tradition and starts the whole process on its own." She felt Jareth's nod against her head. "But why? How?"

"The why has to do with the manner in which everything took place. You did not just complete the Labyrinth, you defeated it. My offer to you, all those years ago, to give you everything was taken at its word, not simply as, say, words in a script. Even so, if this was a case of you being Fae and there would have been awareness of the spell being worked, it should simply have been a matter of my offering suit, at which point we would have then been required to attend to Their Majesties."

"Right. Following the blasted rules."

He chuckled. "Yes. When you rejected my offer, something no Fae has ever done when presented with their match, it was almost as though you had broken the bond itself. However, because we had not yet been joined together, little happened beyond my Kingdom falling into disrepair and my receiving-"

"A wake-up call?" She interrupted, amused for a reason he could not quite fathom.

"Yes, that describes it perfectly. Now, magic of this sort is extremely powerful. And in the case of this particular type, well, it is as you said before: two halves attempting to become whole. And though you rejected it, my magic continued to pull me toward that end, toward you. It appears that when you returned here, specifically to that place where it all fell apart, my magic was taking no chances. The fact that it heard your comment as a request to traverse the Labyrinth, that it brought you here without my knowing leaving you free to do so unhindered, that you completed the Labyrinth a second time thus defeating the loophole, everything fell into place. Perhaps rather than run the risk of you choosing to leave again, to change your mind, to leave me, my magic, and my Kingdom still broken, it overreached. It jumped ahead of all ritual and did what it needed to be done to ensure you would stay. It did what was natural, though always before it has been impossible without an outside hand controlling the spells. For only one other couple has that happened."

"Who?" Sarah thought she knew, but wanted to hear him say it.

"Only for the first: Oberon and Titania, High King and Queen of all the Fae."

Though he confirmed her guess, she still found herself shocked when she heard it aloud. "So what does it mean?"

He chuckled. "Trouble. Mostly from those who do not care for me personally. But the Queen likes you and has already sworn to protect you. Her beloved will follow suit, initially because it is her desire though I imagine he will want to for his own reasons in short order. I would not worry about what it means unless They give you specific reason to do so. Now, as for the how it happened to act on its own devices, I do not know."

"Good to hear you are so well informed." Once more, her tone made him chuckle. Sarah sighed happily as he held her tightly. "Out of curiosity, how many have actually done it? Completed the Labyrinth, I mean, before me?"

"Only one."

She had been tracing patterns on the pendant again and her hand stopped. "Oh."

"In fact, no other has even come close. You see?" He sat up, tilting her face to look into her eyes. "It truly was meant to be." And with that, he brought his lips to meet hers.


	35. A Little Play, A Little Work

_Author's Note, May 18, 2011: I know, I can hardly believe it myself._

**Chapter Thirty-Five: A Little Play, A Little Work**

Jareth returned Sarah to her living room via the window just before lunch. He held her hand as she stepped down, raising it to his lips in farewell before stepping back and closing the door to the Underground. She felt a momentary pang of loss before realizing that she could, in fact, still feel his emotions. It was a strange sensation that she had still not gotten used to but as of yet had no difficulty distinguishing between her own and what she knew were his.

After standing in the middle of the room contemplating her situation for a moment, she finally turned toward getting ready for her class. This was a process that included grabbing a couple of books of the bottom bookshelf next to her fridge and, as she got up, she nearly fell over having knelt on the long skirt. "Damn." The clock on her wall she had several minutes before Agnes was due to fetch her for lunch.

After throwing clothes on the bed to change into, she went over to the mirror to see how, exactly, to remove the gown. The lacing was tied just barely out of her reach. "Oh for crying out loud. Who designed this thing as a good idea?" She eventually had to fish out a clothes hanger to pull on the highest loops. She finally got out of the entire ensemble, with several tangles and, much to her own surprise, only a minimal amount of swearing, and was just pulling on her pants when she heard the banging on the door. She ran over to the door, sticking her arms through the sleeves of the t-shirt, and unlocked the door before pulling the shirt over her head.

"What'd you do, Williams, sleep in?" When Sarah's head appeared, Agnes eyebrows popped up. "Woah. You look like you just saw a ghost. Are you ok?"

In truth, she felt like she had. As Sarah's eyes lit on her best friend, the realization struck her that the choice she had made would not just change her life, but her relationships with her family and friends as well. "It's nothing," she lied, shaking her head. Dealing with this would have to wait, assuming she could ever tell anyone she knew the whole truth, and she tried to push it aside. "I just had a... long night." She turned around to grab the books where she left them, using that as an excuse to break eye contact and compose herself. _How do I do this, alone?_ As the thought formulated itself, however, she felt a wave of adoration and sympathy rush over her from that place in the back of her mind. It made her smile. _Ok, so maybe not so alone..._ It was not a solution by any means, but it made the idea easier to endure.

Sarah turned around, pushed by Agnes, and pulled her door shut behind her. Locking it, she said, "Let's go. I'm curious to see what concoctions await our plates at the Caff."

"Ugh. What is it about this time of year that makes the cooks feel the need to be creative?"

The unusually crowded Dining Room was loud and rambunctious so the pair squeezed in at a table with Edmund and his friends. The topic at hand was fantasy basketball and this held little interest for Sarah and Agnes.

"So, what's going on with you and Jareth? Did you make up and everything?"

"Mm. It was nice, actually. We had a long talk."

"And you gave him the opportunity to apologize?"

Sarah giggled. "Something like that."

"High five, babe, for letting the man win." Edmund reached across the table, and she shrugged one shoulder before slapping his hand.

"What do you mean, 'letting the man win'?" Herb looked incredulous. "Maybe he was right."

"No, no." Rex shook one finger. "Men are never right. See, it's like this..."

Having successfully derailed a conversation she had no interest in for one she had even less interest in, Sarah rolled her eyes. Agnes was looking askance at the boys, lost in thought. After a few minutes of this, Sarah grinned and threw a grape at her friend's forehead.

"Huh? What? Oh, right. So, details details."

Sarah shrugged again. "There's not really much to talk about. We made up, talked about things, we kissed-"

"Woah, woah. _That_ does not qualify as not much to talk about. We're supposed to live for juicy details, you know."

Sarah cast a look over to the boys, who were still grossly involved in their own discussion. "Oh, alright. It was..."

Agnes tried to wait patiently, noting Sarah's complete change in features as she remembered and looked for the right words.

"It was delicious. Electric. It felt like I was floating." _Come to think of it, I think we were... _She leaned in and lowered her voice. "You know, if I knew before that kissing someone was supposed to be like that, I probably would have wanted to do it a lot more in hopes of that happening."

Agnes grinned. "And?"

"And he smelled really good. Like, like a crisp, winter morning just after it snows, with the hint of a fresh pot of coffee being brewed. You know, clean and refreshing and... comfortable." When Agnes raised a dubious eyebrow at that, Sarah leaned back and laughed. "I know, that's totally weird. But I swear, that's the best way I can describe it."

"You're in love." She grinned, widely, knowingly.

"Well, yeah. Like never before." Sarah met Agnes' eyes. "I'm going to marry him, Aggie. He's going to take me away and we'll live happily ever after."

"I don't doubt it." She said it flippantly, but then sat upright. "Hang on, he didn't propose last night or something, did he? I mean, I understand the whole 'when you know, you know' thing, but I mean come on."

Sarah shook her head, slowly. "No, he didn't." _Not really, anyway. _"But we talked about it a little." _Sort of, I guess. _"Look, I just... know it's going to happen."

"And you don't think this is all rather sudden?"

"Well sure, I suppose but-"

"Oh, whatever. I think it's all romantic-like," Herb threw in. The girls looked at him, startled that he was listening in. Upon looking up, however, they saw that all of the table was regarding them. Sarah blushed, wondering how much they heard. "He seems like a nice guy and all. Very sporty. You know, athletic."

"_That_ is what you are basing your opinion on? Seriously?" Agnes shook her head and smacked Edmund on the shoulder.

"Hey, I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but I'm sure you deserve it."

"Seriously though," Herb insisted. "Love is awesome. We shouldn't try to knock it down."

"I'm not trying to knock it down. Wills has every right to pursue love and happiness and all that. I'm just saying that- Hey," Agnes interrupted herself when Sarah got up, "where are you going?"

Sarah pointed at the clock on the wall. "I've got class. I'll catch you all later."

"Dinner?"

She shook her head. "Jareth has a study at his... place." _Place, palace, castle, whatever... _"I'm going to try to get some work done there where it's quiet and that dragon of a Librarian won't be breathing down my neck for thinking too loudly. Then I think we're eating in."

"Right on. Later."

Sarah finished gathering up her things, waved at them all then went on her way, chuckling to herself at the conversation continuing at the table.

"As I was saying, I'm just wondering if taking their time a little might not be so bad, considering the last one there."

In a somewhat bold move for him, Edmund ventured two cents. "But if you take too much time, you might miss an opportunity."

_Go get her, Eddie, _Sarah thought as she opened the Dining Room door and jogged down the hallway.

* * *

Jareth leaned back in his chair, watching Sarah. She had something called headphones over her ears and was shaking her feet to the beat of some unknown song. Every now and then she would sing or hum along a few notes, but for the most part, she was silent. She lay on her stomach on the couch, legs bent and ankles crossed above her, reading a book and making notes on several pads of paper. When not actually writing, she waved a pencil rapidly back and forth between two fingers. There was a stack of books on the floor next to the couch, and another on the table.

When she had asked Jareth if she could come back to Underground after her class to study, he had not been sure what that would entail. He had assumed he would get little done as the likelihood of her being a distraction seemed very high. He often found her a distraction when she was _not_ there.

Yet almost immediately after arriving she had ensconced herself on the couch in the corner, apologized if she should start talking to herself, insisted that if she was bothering him she could go somewhere else, and promptly got to work. She paid no heed to the assortment of Goblins that came in to report on the status of various building projects going on in the City. Only once did she look up, removing the headphones and leaning back to receive his lingering kiss as he told her he would return shortly, but his presence was required elsewhere. When he returned, he found her piles of books and papers had spread but she was still bent over her note-taking.

Jareth watched her for several minutes. The hour had grown late and he supposed they should dine at some point. But he found himself enjoying this comfortable silence. It was unexpectedly familiar and he marveled at it.

There was a whisper of magic on the other side of the desk and he knew before he saw that the High King had arrived. Jareth did not bother getting up, looking over and bowing his head in a nod toward formality. There was no one here to judge and they were in _his_ kingdom. But he also knew that had Oberon wanted pomp and circumstance, that would have been made crystal clear.

"I did not expect to see you so soon." Which was mostly true. He had expected a visit at some point, just not with Sarah present for it just yet. "I have few answers to give you."

Oberon snorted. "Yes, well, upon her return to my side, Titania made it quite clear what her expectations were. She feels rather strongly that she must take your beloved under her wing. Which cannot be done just yet, of course."

"Of course. I do not suppose it needs to be said that she may not be as receptive to that as might be thought."

"I said as much."

"Yet here you are."

"Indeed." Both turned their gazes toward the young woman who was unaware she was the subject of discussion. "What is she doing?"

"Researching for a paper, I believe is what she called it."

"Ah." There was a pause. "And what is that?"

"It is apparently a learning exercise that she feels is a waste of time as she has yet to learn anything new from her current teacher, but as she is required to complete it she has little choice in the matter."

"Ah." Another pause. "How long will it take?"

"From what I understand, it encompasses most of what she does at this school of hers, though the subjects vary."

She felt rather than heard his request for her attention. She stuck the pencil in the middle of the book and pulled her headphones off, hitting the pause button as she looked up. That they were not alone in the room did not concern her, it was more the specific visitor that made her blink. He was dressed in splendor, she decided was the only way to describe it. _And I am in yoga pants. _Granted, she came here today to enjoy Jareth's company while she studied, not go to a ball, but still. She pursed her lips, then looked at Jareth. "You know, I don't know that I want to keep coming here if I continue to find myself in situations where I am so horribly underdressed."

Oberon looked slightly taken aback. "I do not understand." He gestured around the room. "We are all informal here."

She looked at him dubiously. "Right." That she did not believe him was clear. That she was at a loss as to what was expected of her only slightly less so. That she was determined to not be intimidated overshadowed it all.

"Titania was right," Oberon said to Jareth. "She is an open book to all who would bother to read it. It is quite disarming."

Sarah's eyes narrowed minutely and she said the first thing that popped into her head. "Perhaps you would rather she sit cool and calm like an emotionless nitwit that can be talked about rather than spoken to and not be bothered by the whole thing?" The sudden burst of amusement from Jareth soothed any mortification she felt as the words left her mouth.

"I- Indeed. My apologies. It has been long since I last had dealings with any Mortals, human at that. Perhaps too long." He stood, Jareth following suit. Before Sarah could unearth herself from her notes and do the same, Oberon stood before her. She was sitting up at that point, but before she could rise completely he had taken her hands and was on his knees before her. Her dismay was evident and her bravado faltered. He knew she knew, if only through Jareth's reactions, that this was not typical behavior. _But then, this is not a typical situation, by any means. _

Though she felt the sudden urge to go hide under a bed, she held his gaze, reminding herself to breathe. His eyes bore into her soul.

Finally he looked down, pressing her hands flat with her palms together, still wrapped in both of his. He exhaled, slowly, shook his head, and raised his eyes once more. "You must never leave him, child."

She gnawed on her lower lip, looking back and forth between the High King of the Fae and her own Goblin King several times. _Where is all this going?_ Jareth exuded reassurance. Her voice was quiet. "I don't intend to."

"Even at the cost of leaving everything you know, everything you have, until it fades to a distant memory?"

"Do I really have any other choice? At this point?"

"There is always a choice."

She stood, fairly pulling him to his feet as well, so tight was his grasp on her hands. He looked down at her, eyebrow raised. "I chose him. And I would do so again, even now, even..." she paused, her voice breaking. "Even knowing, I would choose him."

Oberon released her hands and, with one hand on her cheek, kissed her forehead. "I think I will enjoy this." Then he turned to Jareth. "Not, I suppose, that any of that matters."

Jareth shrugged. "As I said, I have few answers for you. Do you wish to attempt to undo it?"

"Absolutely not!" From their discussion the previous night, Sarah had picked up on what Jareth was referring to. "I have had it with other people, and things that are," she stumbled briefly, "not... people, deciding what happens with my life without my consent. He," while still looking at Jareth, she pointed at Oberon, "does _not_ get that option." Suddenly realizing who she was referring to and looked at the High King. "Oh. No offense or anything.

Oberon smiled as he saw the determination return. _Stubborn, I see. _The thought was for Jareth alone.

Jareth responded in kind at the invitation to do so. _You have no idea._

_I believe I shall definitely enjoy this. _He chuckled.

"Sarah," Jareth leaned against his desk, crossing his arms with a smirk, "unfortunately His Majesty _does_ get that option. And by all means, encourage the most powerful Fae of us all to rise to a challenge."

She glared at him, saying, "Don't patronize me." She then snapped the look to the High King. "Go ahead then, try it."

He chuckled, highly amused. "Actually, no. I do not think I shall. Not only do I like you, but if I did so I believe my own beloved would have my head." He then turned serious. "Though I promise you, others may not be so ready to let this be what it so clearly is."

"Well then I suppose I should get ready for that." She knew he had successfully redirected her ire, but found she did not mind that so much.

He smiled at her. "And you shall. Time will tell as to how this indirect way of going about things may affect the process. Though I understand you have obligations Aboveground you have yet to fulfill, you must spend as much time as near to each other as possible to ensure the bond is complete, at least until we have a better understanding as to what all has happened. Goblin King, we shall speak again soon for answers _must_ be found."

Jareth bowed gracefully. "At your will, Your Majesty."

And with that, Oberon disappeared.

* * *

"Honestly, Sarah, what possessed you?"

"Well," she shrugged and looked up at him, "I sort of figured since I was thinking it, and since he would probably just read my mind anyway, I might as well say it aloud. You know, express, don't repress. It's healthy."

He kissed her forehead. "Ah, of course."

After a few moments of silence, Sarah asked, "Jareth?"

"Yes?"

"Did you... bequeath this room to me?"

They stood on the balcony attached to the Burgandy room. After a quiet dinner, Jareth brought her here to watch the sun set over the Labyrinth. It was giving off a particularly glorious show, and he presumed it was all for her amusement. He chuckled. "In essence, yes. Anything I possess is yours for the taking should you want it. It always has been, it seems. Though recently that has been my intent. Particularly with these chambers, though I never formally cast a spell. Why do you ask?"

"One of the Goblins used that word to explain how the doors work."

"Ah."

"So I can stay here?"

"Whenever you wish. You need only ask and the way shall open."

"Hm. I only have a few weeks left before Graduation."

"And that is?"

"I'll be done with school, officially, and we have a big ceremony to celebrate it." She thought about her word choice. "Though it has nothing eternally binding about it. Just lots of speeches and we get a piece of paper."

"You Mortals," he teased.

She giggled. "Anyway, until then I still have classes to go to and I really am supposed to stay on campus when I'm on duty at the dorms."

"Mm hmm." He wondered where she was going with this.

"But after Graduation, after the school year is over, everyone moves out. Usually back home for the summer, until they come back for the next year or find a job or something."

"Is this what you intend?"

"I think it is what is expected. At least by parents. Aggie and I have talked about getting an apartment together, but I think she would be comfortable with my changing my mind to move in with you. I mean, she's met you. She gets it."

He thought he understood. "But I have not yet met your family. Your brother, Toby, he will not remember me."

"Right. You know how you said the whole bonding process has all this ritual because that's the way the Fae like it?"

"Yes."

"Well, this is sort of like that."

"And when should this happen?"

"Well, both..." she was still having a hard time thinking of the High King and Queen by their rank and not by their Shakespearean versions, and paused. "Both of Their Majesties indicated that there is some sort of time frame, and-"

"Sarah, make no mistake. I want you here. I want you in my world, in my home, in my life." A_nd in my bed_. Her lack of response to that indicated she still was not yet able to touch his inner-most thoughts at will. Not that he expected it quite yet. "And I _will_ have you. The problem with time is that what is happening here is different, new. Possibly on levels yet to be discovered. Other Fae may not take kindly to it and both you and I are vulnerable until the bond is complete."

Sarah sighed. "But mostly me."

_That, she picks up on._ "Yes, this is true. But understand this, I have spent my entire life hardly daring to hope this could happen. Nine years of waiting for you, half of which I did not realize that I was doing so. My ability for patience may be hard fought. But I can wait until you are ready." Fingers under her chin, he gently tipped her face up. "And until then, I will keep you safe."


	36. Celebrate Tonight

**Chapter Thirty-Six: Celebrate Tonight**

For months, the entire World had been abuzz with rumors. _Something_ was going on in the Kingdom of the Goblins. All anyone knew was that the Goblin King had been doing what was forbidden and venturing Aboveground.

Truth be told, journeys of this nature were not _expressly_ forbidden. It was more a general consensus that the Mortal World had proven to be wrought with too grave a danger to that of the Fae. Humans had become to wrapped up in explaining everything away with _science_. Any mystery unexplainable was cast off as delusions, falsehoods, silly imaginings of children. They no longer respected or, more importantly, feared the might of the Fae.

_And good riddance_, he thought, glowering at his cup. _And Jareth had surprisingly been one of the chief supporters of Their Majesties' plan. Though_, he supposed, _it was more to avoid the inconvenience of all those wished away children. Spoiled upstart._ He drained the goblet of its liquid with a sneer. _And we all wondered why these actions now, after all this time._

They had wondered. Every Fae with any amount of power had sensed the change coming from the Kingdom. Truthfully, it had begun years ago when some grave disaster had befallen causing what appeared to be a rebuilding of the entire Goblin City. The first assumption would have been that the Goblin King had died and a new monarch reigned in his place, but everyone knew better. For all his general disinterest in the Court, he was still one of the most powerful of all the Fae, a man to be concerned about in the very least. Feared, should he ever decide to exercise his rights by rank.

No, Jareth remained alive. But something had changed. And the entire Fae World watched with guarded curiosity, more eyes turning in that direction as his visits began, then increased in number. And when he went to _That _Place, where one goes only when he wishes to speak with Their Majesties in the truest confidence and secrecy... _Bewildered, that would describe the mood perhaps. Baffled. Perhaps that is better._ However it could be described, it was all very strange and suspect.

Then, suddenly, several nights ago, clarity was found. Jareth, the King of the Goblins, inscrutable, impassive, indifferent Jareth, had apparently lost his heart. The entire world had been rocked by the power of the spell that had been cast. A spell that had not been initiated in centuries, if not longer. A spell that, by all rights, should not have been _considered_ without the Court being informed. _If not the Court, then the Council!_

Some, he had heard, did not mind this oversight. They believed that if this was all that was behind Jareth's behavior, then so be it. How much worse it could have been! They were willing to let it all go. But he was not. For starters, this still did not explain this business Aboveground. _What is his interest there? And who could the woman be?_

He refilled his goblet, stopping mid-pour as a preposterous thought occurred to him. _No, surely not... It is impossible... _He set the ewer down and leaned back in his chair. _Could Jareth have fallen for and bound his soul to a mere _Mortal_?_

* * *

A week had gone by. Sarah was in full-on paper-writing mode, spending nearly every waking moment in class, in the Library, or in Jareth's Study. There was time enough to finish before her deadlines, but she just wanted them done. She also knew that focusing all her energy on projects that needed completion would serve two purposes: give her time to avoid other things that needed dealing with and, when she finally was able to deal with those things, allow her to not get distracted by said projects.

It did make her behavior around Campus a bit strange. She had a slight air of frazzled about her, though nothing was slipping through the cracks. She could often be found muttering to herself as she walked down hallways or along paths from one building to the next. Once, a couple of sophomores passed her one evening as she stood next to a lamp post scribbling furiously on a tiny notebook. The residents of her dorm were fascinated by all this and determined to be supportive. Some attempts were more successful than others, but for the most part it did not go unnoticed and she did appreciate it. Especially when she noticed a select few were stepping up to the plate of providing emotional support for their classmates in distress. She tucked away their names for a later date when time would come to provide references for next year's Resident Advisors.

The only time she allowed herself to breathe a little was when she was Underground. She felt comfortable, safe, her burdens less dire and pressing. Jareth left her to her own devices, his own time spent delving into the workings of the Labyrinth or meeting with Oberon. He would check in on her with regularity, interrupt her long enough to see her smile, then leave her to her task once more.

Once, that proved to be more difficult than expected, but he eventually found her in the formal Dining Room. She had cards spread out all across the long table, arranged in some mysterious order. Two Goblins were in the room with her, sitting on the tall backs of the chairs, watching with fascinated intensity. She had a sheaf of papers in her hand, notating on both the papers and the cards, periodically cursing under her breath and rearranging a selection of cards. This would then prompt a whispered conversation between the Goblins who would shortly start to nod in agreement and, apparently, approval of her decision. When this happened, she would smile, amused, but keep working.

He did not bother her at that point, closing the door behind him gently. He could wait to discuss it with her, find out what had piqued his subjects interest so. It was another conversation to look forward to and there was plenty of time ahead to have it.

The next evening, after spending most of the day with Oberon, breaking only to bring Sarah Underground at her request, he came into his Study to find not the usual chaos of papers and books. Instead, her bag was sitting on the table, everything neatly packed. Sarah was sitting in the chair behind his desk, also unusual. Her hands were folded on the desk, chin resting atop them. Had her eyes been open, she would have seen him come in. He concluded she had been watching the door, waiting for his arrival. But as she waited, she had fallen asleep.

He sat on a corner of his desk, removing his gloves and crossing his hands on one knee. Jareth realized he could watch her forever and could probably make it so, cheating them both out of the trials life might hold. And while he would sacrifice all to prevent any sorrow on her part, he could not bear to deprive her of the joy that was to be expected should he do so. He whispered her name, stroking her cheek with one finger.

Sarah inhaled deeply and sat up, rubbing one eye as she blinked several times. She looked at Jareth and smiled. "Hi."

"Hello."

"I fell asleep."

He chuckled. "Yes, I noticed."

"Is it very late?"

"Later than I intended, I am sorry to say."

"Oh. That's all right; I don't mind waiting." She sat there, looking at him sleepily until he held one hand out to her. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet and toward him. One arm wrapped around her waist, holding her firmly against him, as he buried his other hand into her hair and tipped her face up toward his. She smiled at him. "I'm finished."

"With what?"

"Everything." She covered a wide yawn with the back of her hand. "Except for whatever new assignments pop up, but most of my classes gave out their paper list at the beginning of the term, so there shouldn't be anything new at this point."

"Ah. Then perhaps we should celebrate."

"I'd like that. But I don't know when at this point. I have two classes in the morning and then a lunch meeting with my advisor who is overseeing my dissertation. And starting tomorrow night, I'm on duty for a week and have to be on campus from in the evenings and overnight."

Jareth put his chin on the top of her head. He thought for a moment, then a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Might I suggest a spontaneous romp for what is left of tonight with a promise for something more well-planned at another date?" At her nod, he smoothed Sarah's hair then, without warning, swept her up into his arms. He chuckled at her squeak and watched her eyes grow wide.

"Um."

"You sound nervous."

"Around you? Generally."

"Good."

Sarah dubiously regarded his self-assured grin. She felt a steady wave of adoration coming from him, barely masking an undertone of mischief. "What are you up to?"

"Close your eyes."

She pursed her lips, debating. Fingering his collar, she finally did close her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder as she did so. She sighed, content, as she felt a familiar tug of magic.

Jareth knelt, placing Sarah on the ground. He settled behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back against his chest. He kissed her gently behind her ear, delighting in the shiver that coursed through her. "Open your eyes," he whispered.

Whatever Sarah might have been expecting, this was not it. They were deep in the forest sitting on a mossy expanse on the edge of a clearing, at the center of which was a small fire. She looked around, taking it all in. Then it hit her. "Hey..."

"Look familiar?"

"Yes." She turned in his arms and looked up at him. "But why -" A cackle of laughter interrupted her. A flash of orange caught her eye and she looked back into the clearing. She stiffened slightly, remembering her first encounter with this particular group.

They caught sight of the couple and zoomed on over. "Well! If it ain't His Majesty!"

"The King is here? Well long live the king!"

"The King of the Goblins himself, in the flesh. And with a lady." There was much eyebrow wiggling at that.

"Hey! That ain't just any lady! It's her! She's back! Come to dance with us again?"

Sarah blinked. "Um..."

"Why are you here Your Majesty? You don't often come to our evening revels!"

"Yeah! In fact he _never _comes to these shindigs!"

"No he sure doesn't"

"To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure? Is something going on?"

"Yes." Sarah looked back up at Jareth, an eyebrow raised. "What is going on?"

"You did agree that we have cause for celebration, did you not?"

She blinked. "Yes, but -"

"Celebrate? You mean chilly down? Throw a party?"

"Heh heh! No one parties like this crew here!"

"Right on! But what is the occasion?"

They were looking at Sarah expectantly. "Oh. Well, I -"

"I know! It's in honor of the lady coming back to us!"

"That's right! She'll be our Queen soon. I always said!"

"No you didn't!"

There was a bit of jostling each other and Sarah wondered if heads and limbs were going to be coming off again when one of them, the one with the deep voice, bounced his way between the bickering two. "Hey, man, it don't matter. Let's just get the groove on!"

"Woo!"

As if on cue, drums and music started up out of nowhere. The Fireys began to sing and dance and, shortly, all manner of other creatures began to join them, bursting out of the underbrush. In some cases, the rocks and plants themselves unfolded and revealed just how alive the forest truly was. But all of them blended in perfectly, a vibrant collage of orange, red, yellow, and every hue in between. None behaved quite as manic as the original four, but it was clear they belonged in the swamp. Most joined in the dancing and singing until quite a cacophony had arisen.

A handful, however, appeared to be more curious about the couple that had joined them. They lingered in the shadows, just out of reach, and watched. Sarah appeared unaware of them, eyeing the proceedings as she decided whether or not to be comfortable. When she finally relaxed into Jareth's arms, he looked over at the small group of observers. A tiny two-legged, bright red ball of fluff bounced hesitantly in and out of the shadows. He watched as it came closer, its gaze never leaving Sarah. Then, ever so slowly, it reached out with one little hand and touched hers.

She looked down and started slightly at the unexpected sight of wide eyes looking up at her. "Hello," she said. It jumped six inches into the air then bounced off into the darkness with a barely audible "Eep!" She looked at Jareth once again. "Did I do something wrong?"

He shook his head. "Just wait."

A few seconds passed and the creature returned, three others in tow. They bounced up, chirping, until they stood next to her, all in a row. Looking at her. Expectantly.

"Um. Hello," she said again. There was more chirping and more bouncing, then more staring. Sarah leaned toward Jareth and whispered, "What am I supposed to do?"

He took one of her hands in his, palms up, and guided it to the ground in front of the first fluff ball. Again, there was more chirping, though clearly merrily this time, and it hopped into Sarah's palm. Jareth then guided her hand back to her lap and released it. Immediately, the three other fluff balls hopped up to join the first. Chirping until they settled, all snuggled together. Within minutes, they were asleep.

Jareth reclined on the moss, propping himself up slightly with an elbow and angling around Sarah so he could look up and watch her face. The wonder in her eyes filled his heart anew.

"How can they possibly sleep with all this noise?"

He shrugged. "This happens every night, actually. So I suppose they are used to it, being that they are baby Fireys." Her expression upon hearing that tidbit was indescribably priceless and made the entire idea of coming here worthwhile.

The sight of the Firey kits in Sarah's lap seemingly emboldened the other observing creatures. They huddled together, muttering for a few minutes, then disappeared for a few minutes. When they returned, the stood just inside the light, eyeing Jareth until he gave permission to approach with a flick of his fingers. As a group, they slowly came forward.

Sarah looked up as they neared, smiling. When she saw the little group standing there, surprise and questioning briefly lit her eyes. Jareth wondered what she would do.

She waited a moment to see what they would do, but they simply looked at her, hopeful for something though she had no idea what. Mentally shrugging, she offered again, "Hello."

There was a chorus of, "Ohh!" and more murmuring amongst themselves before they turned to look at her once more. Jareth could see Sarah was having a hard time not laughing outright.

She cleared her throat. "Is there something you need from me?" she prompted.

One of them was shoved forward, apparently the spokesperson of the group. "Are you really the King's lady?"

"I, well," her eyes flicked to Jareth who simply grinned at her. She took a breath. "Yes."

"And... are you the same lady who defeated the Labyrinth?"

"Well, yes, actually."

"And... is it true that you..." The spokesperson looked over its shoulder and the others nodded encouragingly. "That you," its voice dropped to a whisper, "that you threw their heads around?" It gestured with a tiny jerk of its own head.

She blinked several times at that one, but other than that her composure did not falter. "Yes, that was me."

This time, her answer met with a chorus of, "Wow!" in a highly approving and impressed tone. Then, as one, they all pulled their hands from behind their backs to reveal small bunches of flowers, the same colors as the creatures that held them. "We hope you like it here," one said as they all put the flowers in her lap next to the sleeping Fireys. They then scattered to join the rest of the party, but at the last second, almost as an afterthought, another ran back up and whispered, "You can come back and do that again, any time."

She pressed her lips together and momentarily looked down, trying again to not laugh. "Thank you," she finally managed, and the creature ran off to join the others. She shook her head, watching it go, then turned to Jareth. "What was that all about?"

"It appears they like you."

"Oh."

"And approve of you."

"Approve?"

"Yes. I confess that, while I did think this would be an ideal place for an impromptu congratulatory to-do, it has served another purpose." She waited while he reached out and pet one of the sleeping Fireys with one finger. "There are so many secrets surrounding your presence here, Sarah. But I do not want to hide you. Much of it has come from necessity; we both have been rather busy. But my people need to know who you are. I _want_ them to know you."

She smiled at him, then picked out a couple of the flowers and began weaving them together. "And by 'my people' I assume you mean your subjects, not your kind." He nodded. "Thank you for that. And for what it's worth, this is the most relaxing party I have ever been to."

"How do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Socializing can be rather exhausting. Aggie is pretty good about making sure we aren't thought of as wall flowers whenever we go out, and I guess I can hold my own when the mood strikes me or when I have to. But tonight my brain is way too fried."

"Understood." They fell silent and he looked out over the clearing watching the goings-on.

Sarah continued weaving the flowers. "Jareth?"

"Hm?"

"Are all of these creatures Goblins?"

"That depends on who you ask. Technically, since they live here under my rule and the Labyrinth claims them, yes. But never suggest it to them."

"Why not? Is it that offensive?"

He chuckled. "Offensive? No. They just have quite the argument against it and their particular diatribe narrative is rather exhausting to follow."

Sarah giggled. "I can imagine. Well, as long as they don't try to take off _my_ head again, I am happy to oblige them and call them whatever they please."

He looked back at her, glad to see she was smiling. "You do know that they would not actually have removed your head, right?"

"If you say so."

"They delight in the chase and they like to test limits and push buttons, but they are mostly harmless."

She eyed him, amused. "Operative being mostly?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "There is little in this kingdom that is _entirely_ harmless."

"Its king included?"

An eyebrow went up. "Indeed." He watched her blush at the weight of meaning he placed inside that one word. "And what of you, Sarah? Will you be one of the few who would never cause harm in the Kingdom of Goblins?"

She held up the flowers, now transformed into a glorious garland of fire, and inspected her work. "I suppose that remains to be seen, doesn't it?"

And with that, she crowned Jareth with the flowers and kissed him.


	37. The Plot Thickens

_Edited: 12 March 2013_

_**Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Plot Thickens**_

It had taken more time and effort than he wanted to expend, especially with all the protective guards Jareth had placed, but he had finally narrowed the actual location down. Now, he sat on his throne assessing the situation. He needed more information. Unlike his fellow lords and princes, he knew that was where the true power lay. So he had sent several underlings to garner what he required.

Their findings were curious but insufficient. She was young, even by Mortal standards, and apparently an aspiring scholar of some sort living among other young Mortals of the same ilk. Additionally, she appeared to be a leader among those she lived with. A mentor in the very least, though some informants indicated she was in command. All the Mortals there, those who lived there as well as those who came and went at will, were preparing for some final event. It was all everyone was speaking about and a frantic energy fueled every action. But no one could inform him of any reason for it beyond that, whatever it was, it was indeed final. None, however, could give him any measure of the woman herself. What kind of person was she? What made her unique enough to catch the eye of Jareth, the unmovable King of the Goblins?

He brought himself back to the present and the minor Fae lord standing before him. Finally, he spoke. "Discretion is key, you understand. She will be difficult to reach, difficult to get to. But I want an assessment of her character. Do not disappoint me."

* * *

"Woah. That guy is totally checking you out, Wills," Agnes muttered over the lid of her mocha.

"Who?" Herb immediately surveyed the other people in the courtyard in front of the steps at the side entrance to the dorm.

Edmund leaned forward and smacked Herb on the back of the head. "Dude. Don't be so obvious."

"What did I do?"

Sarah giggled at Herb's bewildered expression. "You have to be casual, aloof."

"What?"

"Show him how it's done, Williams," Agnes advised.

"Alright. Where is he?"

"Seven o'clock to you."

They were sitting on the steps having coffee. Sarah was one step below the other three, her back to the courtyard. She took a sip from her cup before switching it to her left hand then setting it just behind her on the step below her. "First thing to remember is to keep the conversation going." She told Herb as she pulled her hair out of her ponytail and massaged her scalp. "That way it doesn't look suspicious. Now say something clever, Eddie."

Edmund snorted. "I don't care what you say about it, the Yankees will never win the Super Bowl."

Herb looked at his friend as though he had grown a second head. "Are you out of your mind?"

Agnes laughed. "Exactly, Herb, you're catching on. But pay attention to Williams here."

When Herb turned around, Sarah was running her fingers through her hair. "Then, you give yourself a perfectly logical reason for looking in another direction, but make sure to stop talking in case whoever it is can read lips."

"Paranoid," Edmund muttered over his own cup before taking a drink.

Sarah then ran the fingers on her left hand through her hair. Catching it on a tangle, she looked over her shoulder to seemingly inspect the ends. Pulling her hand free, she then turned around. "The redhead?"

"No," said Agnes. "Blonde. Leather jacket. Behind the guy next to a bicycle."

Sarah then felt the step next to her. She looked down to her right. "Where did my coffee go?"

Herb pointed. "Um, you put it on the other side."

"Oh! Thanks!" she said brightly. She turned around completely at the waist, picking up her coffee cup. As she lifted it to her lips, she scanned the crowd, laughing showily at Agnes' commentary behind her about how they practiced this in high school. Then she saw him. She made eye contact for the briefest of second and had to force herself to look away. Alarms were going off in her head. She kept a smile plastered to her face and turned back around. "Ok." She looked agnes in the eye. "Whether or not he is, as you say, checking me out is now moot. That guy, something about him gives me the creeps."

"That was awesome!" Herb said. "Did you really practice that?" He sounded very impressed.

"Sure, as though it was an art form. We had far too much free time for our own good. But seriously, even my toes are creeped out by that guy."

Edmund disregarded all pretense of subtlety and leaned to peer around Sarah. "Yeah, that goes beyond checking out. He's not even leering or ogling. Just staring. And directly at the back of your head."

Herb saw Edmund look obviously and did so as well. "You want me to go deck him or something?"

"Yes," Agnes said.

"_Agnes_!" Sarah rolled her eyes in mock disbelief. "Herb, surely you don't think you can just go around punching people for no reason."

"Not no reason. We're all in agreement that he's creepy. Besides, what will anyone do? They can't suspend me from classes or anything. I graduated, remember?" Sarah smacked him on the leg as Edmund hit the back of his head again. "Hey! I was kidding, geez."

* * *

Deep in the Underground, Jareth's head snapped up from where he was bent over a pile of zoning documents.

"Your Majesty?" Squeaker was startled, though more because his King was suddenly staring off into space than because of the sudden movement.

Jareth held up one hand, forestalling further inquiry. He focused on Sarah and her sudden surge of fear. He closed his eyes. _Turn around, beloved,_ he thought. _Look again._

* * *

It was like lasers were pointed at the back of her head. "Is he still there?"

"Yup. I'm not sure if he knows we are watching him, he's so intent on you," Edmund said.

"Dude, maybe I will go over there. I'm sure your boy Jareth would approve."

At the mention of his name, Sarah's thoughts turned inward. She reached up to touch the tiny pendant hanging around her neck, a miniature version of the one he always wore, hers a delicate blend of silver and gold. As always when she focused on him, Sarah felt his presence in the back of her mind. He exuded safety and calm and, for the first time, it was almost as though she could hear his thoughts. Shrugging and feeling her confidence renewed, she pivoted where she sat and looked the stranger directly in the face.

"Woah," Agnes and Herb said in unison.

Sarah barely heard them as she etched his features into her mind.

* * *

Jareth saw the face of the minor Fae lord who was spying on his Queen. Though they had yet to complete the steps and ritual required to make it so officially, it had been some time since he started thinking of her thusly. And since the Labyrinth itself seemed to agree, he would not let formality stand in the way. It was only a matter of time, after all.

He saw the face of the man who studied her, who dared come near her without permission._ But is he a threat? And to what extent?_

Fortunately for him, whoever he was, Jareth had rules to follow. There were endless consequences for rash action at this point. And he knew something like this was bound to happen eventually. Oberon and Titania both had reminded him that the others would seek to test her, and him, until she was formally presented to the Council and the High Court. Which was something he refused to discuss until she had finished with her schooling. Something he was not sure he would be willing to discuss until after he met her family. At this moment, he considered changing the plan.

In the meantime, as there was no evidence of a need for immediate action, he would follow some measure of protocol. He turned to the Goblin standing next to him, looking at him with concern. "We will finish this later," he said. Jareth conjured up a crystal and held it out to Squeaker. The image of the Fae Sarah was looking at floated inside. "Right now, find out what you can about this one."

Squeaker bowed and, taking the crystal, hurried to comply. It was not often he heard such ice and danger in his King's voice.

As the Goblin left, his King returned his thoughts to Sarah.

* * *

Sarah continued to hold the stranger's gaze. Jareth's thoughts were no longer clearly verbalized, but his emotions lingered more vibrantly than ever before. She considered her options, then reached into her bag, pulled something out if it, and squared her shoulders. Standing, she said, "Hey, wait here."

"Um, kay," Edmund answered.

"Holler if you need backup," Agnes added.

Sarah nodded and strode purposefully toward the stranger, whose eyes widened marginally when he realized what she was doing and, after casting about the crowded courtyard, realized there was no easy escape. Sarah stopped in front of him, inches from his face. Her eyes narrowed, voice quiet. "Who are you and what do you want?"

He straightened and looked down his nose at her. "I do not answer to you, Mortal."

Sarah snorted, unimpressed. _Jareth would have me made believe him. But this guy..._ "You are behaving like a petulant child." She jabbed a finger into his chest. "And you have come to _my_ lands, _my_ home." She advanced on him and, miraculously, he backed away from her, faltering. "Uninvited. Unwelcome. Now state your business."

His jaw dropped and he stared at her in stunned disbelief.

Sarah arched an eyebrow pointedly, giving him time to gather his wits and formulate a response. When he took longer than twenty seconds, she rolled her eyes and smirked, mockingly. "Very well. If that is how you choose to play it." She then raised the cell phone she had taken out of her bag and pushed a button. Looking at the picture briefly, she then tossed it in the air once, caught it, and tucked it into her pocket. "I would be wary of showing your face here again." She then turned on her heel and stalked away, leaving him sputtering behind her.

When Sarah returned to her friends, she shook her head at their inquisitive looks. "I'll tell you inside. Let's go up."

They gathered their things and went inside. The last through the door, Sarah looked once more over her shoulder. Whoever he was, the stranger was gone.


	38. Further Plotting

_Edited: 13 March 2013._

_**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Further Plotting**_

He was in the woods near the lake, deep enough in that none of those highly active Mortals could see or hear him as he muttered to himself. "Who does she think she is to speak to _me_ in such a tone?"

A question which, ultimately, lay at the root of his dilemma. While he had some information that would undoubtedly prove useful, he knew it would not satisfy the one who sent him here. Of course this meant he would need to venture forth once more.

"Ugh."

The very thought left him unsettled, a condition with which he was not at all familiar. But she got to him somehow, got the better of him. Left him speechless and sputtering and questioning the wisdom of this mission. A voice at the back of his mind whispered that if word got out about it he would be the ridicule of those among his circle.

Urgency pressed him. He knew there was limited time to accomplish his goal, yet he continued to come up with excuses to delay further action. They were paltry excuses, though. Ones that would never stand up to questioning. But he was reluctant to move, to risk another potentially disastrous encounter.

* * *

When her friends had asked after the purpose of her taking the picture, Sarah told them she wanted to ask Jareth if he knew him. She could not explain why, beyond a gut feeling, but she knew he was looking at her because of him. This led into a complicated conversation including a great deal of creative evasion on her part. She would ever profess to not knowing how she had managed it, but somehow they bought her explanation.

That evening, Jareth also wondered after her purposes in regards to the picture. She had given him such a clear image through her thoughts, a concept that fairly boggled her mind, he did not need another rendition. She shrugged. "I had a hunch it would be useful," she told him. "Not really sure how, but I had a hunch."

He confirmed for her that he was, indeed, a Fae lord of minor rank. Not a member of the High Court or he would have been easily recognized, and not powerful enough to break through any of the protections he had placed. Jareth assured her that he held no immediate danger to her or to anyone else on campus, doubting he would be foolish enough to directly confront her again. While Sarah believed that Jareth genuinely believed the Fae lord would not act foolishly, Sarah had spent far too much time playing guardian to Freshmen to let that be a sufficient explanation to rest her mind.

The next day, she sat in the Caff with Agnes and Edmund. Agnes had her phone and was looking at the picture again. "Did Jareth have any insight?"

"Yeah, he recognized him as someone who works for a member of the board or something." It was an explanation she had decided on late into the night as she pondered it in a bout of sleeplessness.

"Dude," Edmund said, "that's pretty intense. Are you sure he works for a bank?"

Sarah exchanged glances with Agnes. "Yeah, why?"

"I dunno. Herb and I were talking and we think he might actually," Edmund leaned in and whispered, "be part of the mafia."

"Oh, please." Rolling her eyes, Agnes went back to the phone.

"No really. He's so aloof, total air of danger about him. And what's with him wearing gloves if not to keep his fingerprints off of anything he touches?"

"You clearly are studying too hard if you are buying into Herb's theories so readily." Sarah eyed him for signs of exhaustion.

"You can't blame Herb's ideas on studying," muttered Agnes.

"No, come on. What bank has board members that send people to check out who their CEO is dating?"

Sarah stared at him, before sighing and shaking her head. "Okay, you have me there. It is weird. But Jareth tells me they have an insatiable curiosity and since he hasn't brought me to any, um, events-"

"Events? Like what?"

She scrambled for ideas. "You know. Formal parties, charity balls, other things rich people do..."

"Now that's reasonable," Agnes said. "I mean, why _hasn't_ he brought you to any of those?"

"Partly because he doesn't want to distract from my studies, or what's left of them anyway. But mostly because there haven't been any to take me to." _Not for their lack of trying_, she thought. _From what I hear there is something big in the works for as soon as I am available. Time to meet the Court. Yikes._

"Oh. Well I guess that is acceptable. But I get to go dress shopping with you when it is time."

"Hang on, I think you are being distracted from the real issue," Edmund sounded insistent. "How can you be sure that-"

Agnes interrupted him. "Never mind, Eddie. Godfather or not, what are we doing about this guy?" She waved the phone at the other two.

Sarah shrugged. "Jareth said not to worry, that he probably won't show his face after being confronted directly the way I did. And even if he did, I don't think he'd try anything weird."

"But?"

"But," she shrugged again, "I also don't think that was the end of it."

"Well, you have his mugshot," Edmund reminded her. "Why don't you start by posting his picture on all the dorm boards as a character of suspicion to be watched for?"

Agnes stared at him for a long moment then a slow grin spread across her face. She reached out and grabbed his head in both hands. She hauled him over and planted a huge kiss on his mouth. "Eddie, baby, you _are_ a clever monkey."

He blinked. "Thanks."

Sarah giggled. "Ok, time to clue me in."

"Simple. We leave his fate to the dogs. Or, as they are more commonly referred to, the student residents on campus."

"Oh, dear."

Agnes' giggle was borderline wicked. "Precisely."

"I think I need a few more details, if for no other purpose than to ease my mind."

"All we have to do is circulate this picture around some very specific students who live on campus, namely our dorm."

"Okay..."

"The freshmen adore you, Wills. And even if they didn't, they are all particularly fascinated by this romance of yours. I think it is a good thing they don't have all the details because the stories they are making up about it are even better." She looked sideways at Edmund, who was still slightly dazed. "Mobster concept by Mr. Coppola over here not withstanding."

"Uh huh." Sarah's nod was slow. "So we make sure this guy's face is known. Then what?"

"Then we let slip to other particular residents that maybe this guy is a creep, that maybe this guy isn't _bad_ per se but perhaps needs to be given a lesson on boundaries. Should he show up again, of course."

Sarah nodded slowly again, this time accompanied with an equally slow grin. "Of course. And somehow it gets implied that planning such an event this would be a much better use of one's pent-up finals anxiety than loud obnoxious floor parties that disturb those who still have work to do?"

"A happy side effect, of course."

"I don't want anything to do with it. Plausible deniability or... something."

"Hey, whatever they come up with wouldn't be our idea. We are just spreading around news that there is a face to be aware of. Besides, it was Eddie who thought of it. Right?" She looked at him, expectantly.

He looked at her, then at Sarah, then back at Agnes, trying to get caught up. Finally he shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. So you are _sure_ Jareth isn't in the mafia."

Sarah laughed. "Quite." _At least, not of the Italian variety I suppose._

"Cool. Then who wants pie?"


	39. The Wrath of the Freshmen

_Author's Note: 15 March 2013: Hooray. A very, very long one. But don't expect them this long every time, now. ;)_

_**Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Wrath of the Freshmen**_

Being as it was the middle of the afternoon, the security outpost next to the main residency drag was staffed by a lone student work-study. He had taken his last final that morning so there was no studying going on. Instead, he gazed out the window and contemplated how he would be spending his last days of the semester. So, when the man with the familiar face walked by wearing an insipid grin, adrenaline rushed and he picked up the phone, dialing the appropriate on-campus extension.

"Hey, it's me. I just saw him. I think he thinks he's blending in, but he looks like he stepped out of a bad Mötley Crüe cover band. Oh, he's definitely taking the right road. Didn't even ask for directions. So it's time to initiate Operation Vengeance on Creepy Dude. And make sure you get pictures. There are no cameras inside the dorms and this should be awesome." He hung up the phone and turned to the security monitors, pulling up the right feeds that picked up the visitor as he wandered down the main road.

* * *

Finally, he arrived at _her_ place of residence. It was not a building that looked at all remarkable. He thought it was more like a barracks than anything else. Certainly not where he would expect one being courted by a member of the High Fae to live. But it was definitely hers. He could feel the Goblin King's protections of the place. _So, how to get in?_

The clearing of a throat brought him out of his reverie. He looked around and saw three Mortals sitting on a low wall next to the stairs, looking at him. Their eager smiles amused him. Clearly they were captivated.

"Are you looking for someone?" One of them asked.

"Indeed. Long brown hair, about thus tall." He gestured with one hand. " I believe she lives here, yes?"

"Yeah, that's Wills."

"Wills." The name felt strange on his tongue. _Apparently the Goblin King's choice would prove to have little breeding with a name like that. Good news. _

"Yeah. She lives upstairs. Do you know how to get to her room?"

He adopted what he was certain was a kind and benevolent tone. "Sadly, no."

"Oh, excellent. Here, I'll show you." He ran up the steps and opened the door before gesturing widely. "After you."

Once inside, the guide pointed at a staircase. "Go up one flight, take a right and go all the way down the hallway to the double doors at the end. Through there, go up another flight, through the double doors at the next level. Go all the way down that hallway. Through those double doors, then up one more flight. You should find someone there who can get you to her room from there."

"Very good. You may go now." He started on his way.

"Hey, that outfit... is it real leather?"

He turned to look back at the young Mortal, raising himself up to his full height and superiority. "Of course. What else would it be?" He then continued on his way.

Waiting until the visitor was out of earshot, the guide muttered, "Real leather. Excellent. 'You may go'," he mocked. "Phff. Ass hat."

* * *

The Fae looked around when he reached at the top of the staircase. Ahead of him was another staircase leading up, but this was covered with Mortals intently reading very large books. Had he been directed thusly, he did not think he could have passed through without making a great disruption. Looking left, he saw an empty hallway, doors lining both sides and double doors at the end. Looking right, he saw another hallway, equally lined with doors, equally ending in double doors. This hallway, however, was not equally empty.

The doors lining the right portion of the hallway all appeared to be open, and stretched across the hallway at various heights were lengths of string, criss-crossing the entire way down in a long spider web. Balanced on various junctions of the string were bowls and cups. Some of the doorways had mortals leaning out with little wooden catapults, launching strange white pellets at the cups. Any time one made its mark, a great cheer rose up.

_A curious puzzle. _He knew better than to go against the direction of a mysteriously convenient guide at the beginning of one's quest, so he started down the hallway and reached out to brush aside the first set of strings.

"I wouldn't." One of the Mortals reading on the steps spoke to him.

He caught himself just before he jumped out of surprise and asked, "And why not?"

"Dude, if you touch the webbing the cups will fall."

"Duh," said another reader, not looking up.

"Then how should I pass to the doors at the end?"

The Mortal shrugged. "Up to you. You can go over or under, but don't touch the yarn. The JV football team has been working on that contraption for the past three days and woe betide anyone who bothers them. Apparently the chem final was a doozy."

"Hm." _What strange code these Mortals use. _"A test of this nature is simple enough to pass."

"If you say so."

As the Mortal returned to his task of reading, the Fae ducked beneath the first string. He did not notice the eyes of the reader never went back to the page. Instead, they focused on where the visitor was walking. As he neared the first cup, he raised a walkie talkie to his mouth and muttered, "Three marks at 2-10." One of the strings vibrated minutely. "Stay on target... stay on target... Go go go!"

One by one, strings snapped across the hallway, and the first cup tipped over and spilled an oozy, white liquid all over the strange man.

Recognizing he was under attack, The Fae ran for the end of the hallway. But it was no use, for he was hit by every cup and bowl as he passed. Thrusting his way through the double doors, he slammed them behind him, taking a moment to try to peel off strings that were draped across him. He wiped at the goo, but it only seemed to make things worse. "Gah, I have no time for this," he grunted, and slowly climbed the next set of stairs.

Back at the middle staircase, books were set aside amid great laughter. Some football players came out of their rooms. "Wow, what a mess. Good thing we laid down all that plastic."

"Yeah," said one of the readers. "We better get it all cleaned up before the glue sets."

"Don't worry, man," said another one of the football players. "Prof said it only sets after getting soaked with water. This has to be the best extra credit project ever."

* * *

Opening the next set of doors, he almost tripped over a girl who was laying across the hallway. "Yo," she said.

"I don't suppose _you_ have any helpful advice for my quest?" He snarled.

"Quest?" She looked at him like he was crazy. "Oh, man, you _so _have this coming."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You should. You're kind of rude, you know? Anyway, the question you should ask yourself is whether you want to get it over with quickly or drag it out nice and slow like. I'd prefer you opt for the latter, if it's all the same."

"I prefer quickly." It all sounded like another test, and he wanted to get all this done with.

"I figured as much. Well, in that case, you may as well just take it at a run and hope for the best."

"Why?"

"Check it out." She flicked her chin in the direction of the hallway.

Floating all the way down the hallway were several large, brightly colored bubbles. Another handful of Mortals had those tiny, wooden catapults and were firing shiny pellets at the bubbles. One of them hit their target and the bubble popped, in a colorful explosion. "What is that?"

"You don't know paper confetti when you see it? It's all part of some weird Engineering department project, those catapults. Something to do with velocity or something, I'm not sure what. I'm just here for the show. Now off with you, already."

"Hm." He eyed the situation and counted the timing of the shooters. They were rather consistent. _Convenient. _He counted once more time and then took off at a sprint.

Instantly, every doorway was filled with more Mortals firing the catapults at the bubbles . Paper squares and explosions filled the air. As the air started to clear, the girl could see the double doors at the other end of the hallway swing open and suddenly a great shout went out from the stairwell, somewhere between surprise and disgust. The girl on the floor started to cackle.

"That's creepy, Kara. What's with you?" asked one of the catapult wielders.

"I forgot my contingency plan in case he bypassed the instructions for which way to go."

"Contingency plan?"

"Yeah, I rigged up a glitter bucket bomb for that door."

"Nice."

"Thank you, thank you. Just doing my part. And now, my other part: I shall go fetch the vacuums. Try sweeping all that confetti into a couple of vaguely manageable piles, would you?"

* * *

At this point, he was furious. And certain he had been tricked. "This is all _her _doing, I am certain of it. Vile wench." Briefly forgetting his mission, he charged up the final staircase and through the next set of doors, determined he would not be stopped.

Only to be stopped dead in his tracks when he was hit in the face with a stream of ice-cold water.

It was sheer chaos on this floor. Half-naked mortals had brightly colored weapons of some kind. They were pointing them at each other, letting loose more water (with the result of much screaming and squealing), then plunging them into large buckets or throwing them behind them into the rooms and yelling, "Reload! Reload!" Others had colored bubbles, similar to those holding that blasted confetti the girl had spoken of. But these were smaller being thrown. Some were caught, but all eventually exploded in more water blasts.

He grabbed one of the Mortals closest to him. "I am looking for the room that belongs to the woman you call, 'Wills'." The young man slipped easily out of the visitor's grasp and gestured to the other end of the hallway before dodging into a room and grabbing a handful of the bubbles. "It would be," he snarled. Girding his loins, he strode purposefully down the hallway, attempting to ignore the fact that he was getting blasted left and right.

He made it about ten feet before being completely surrounded. At least, he would have assumed he was surrounded except no one appeared to be aiming at him. He was simply getting hit by the crossfire. Everyone's crossfire. Finally having had enough he started to focus inward and pondered what spell to cast that would not violate Their Majesties' rules. Too much.

"What the hell is going on here?" The angry bellow stopped his thoughts in their tracks. And stopped everyone else as well. The Mortals stepped aside and he blinked several times, attempting to clear his eyes.

* * *

Sarah was dumbfounded. She and Jareth were returning from a picnic with Agnes and Edmund when he suddenly looked up at the dorm, eyes narrowed. "Damm." Then he took off, sprinting - if Jareth could ever be accused of sprinting - into the building and up the stairs. The cacophony that she suddenly noticed coming from the open fourth floor windows, and the guiltily innocent expression on the three Juniors sitting on the ledge near the stairs prompted her to book it after Jareth.

Nearly out of breath, the sight that caught her eyes gave her a second wind: Residents in swimsuits having an all-out water fight, very likely ruining the carpeting. Glimpses of that mysterious Fae being pelted with water balloons and covered in confetti and glitter. And Jareth staring directly at him, suddenly fingering a crystal ball.

Calling on every ounce of the disciplinarian RA she had in her, Sarah marched in front of Jareth, hands on her hips, and shouted. The hall cleared. Most of the residents scattered, the rest made their way to their doorways without losing sight of the forthcoming scene or started picking up balloon fragments with no pretense for anything other than eavesdropping.

The Fae shook his head, blinking a few more times as the woman came into focus. "_You!_" he shouted. He balled his fists and strode toward her, stopping to tower over her. "You are responsible for these, these miscreants treating me," he gestured to himself for emphasis, "_me_ in this manner?! You will suffer the consequences for this."

As he approached her and she had the opportunity to take in his visage, whatever anger or concern she had dissipated instantly. It was all she could do to keep her composure. But at his poor attempt at superiority and intimidation, she could keep it in no longer. With what pity she had left, she turned and bolted for her room, collapsing against the door.

Jareth watched her go, listening to her peals of laughter in his mind. He vanished the crystal as quickly as he brought it forth, thankful she had been able to call an end to whatever it was that was going on before this trespasser had caused an even larger disaster. An abrupt bark of laughter brought him back to the Fae standing too close.

"Hah! It seems she finally knows her place in front of my kind," he was muttering. "And after that demonstration those days ago, to run in fear in the face of my anger. Knowing -"

Jareth's chuckle was laced with disdain and a small amount of pity. "_That_ was not fear."

The Fae started, and turned. "What? Of course it is! What do you know of it, you -" He finally saw precisely who he was talking to and had the grace to pale slightly. "Ah. You."

Later, the residents who were watching would comment that although they could not hear much of what was being said, it was quite the demonstration. Though the two men were of almost equal height, Jareth only marginally taller, it was very clear where this newcomer stood in Jareth's estimation. "Lower than dirt," was the phrase most frequently used.

"Indeed. _Me._" Jareth looked the Fae up and down, clearly weighing and judging. But whatever he might have said was forever lost when Sarah's door opened.

She emerged, mostly composed, carrying a long mirror, reflective side toward her. She walked over to the two Fae and stood nearby, opening her mouth to speak. However, she took one look at the stranger and nearly lost it again. Holding the mirror in front of her face, she scrunched her eyes. "Oh I can't look at him," she murmured.

Jareth reached over and fingered a strand of her hair. "You should not bother with sparing his feelings. He has done little to deserve it."

The Fae sputtered, starting to lose his nerve, questioning whether he had, perhaps, mis-read the situation. "What do you mean, spare my -" Sarah spun the mirror around and he caught his reflection. It was hideous. Ridiculous. If any of his compatriots found out about this, he would be laughed out of society. And what would his employer say when he discovered the extent of his indiscretion? He saw all his ambitions flash before his eyes.

Sarah leaned on the top of the mirror. "I _did _tell you to be wary."

The gentleness in her voice irritated him anew. It was as though she was speaking to a child. He threw his shoulders back and straightened. "I do not fear you."

Sarah interrupted him by laughing, heartily, to his face. "Sorry, sorry." She cleared her throat. "Of course you don't." She handed the mirror off to one of the residents lingering nearby. "Quite frankly, I don't know who you are or why you are here and, at this point, I really don't care. What happened to you today was because of your own reckless behavior and obviously stupid decisions. You fell prey to what will go down as one of the greats in the annals of prank history at this Hall. Sadly, I can take no credit for it."

She stepped toward him, angling toward his ear and lowering her voice so only he could hear her. "But understand this: Come near me, or anyone I care about ever again, and you will have more than a little glue and glitter to be concerned about. You will wish for the day when embarrassment was all you had to face."

She stepped back, no longer smiling, and crossed her arms.

He blinked and stepped back as well, moderately unnerved.

_Interesting choice of words, _she heard Jareth's voice in the back of her head. _I was thinking about what you would say,_ she thought back at him. She was not certain if the exact message got to him, but from his snort she assumed he at least got the gists. "Jareth," she said aloud, "Would you be kind enough to escort him out? I would hate for him to get lost and run into more... trouble."

"Not at all, my dear." He tipped her chin up with one finger and kissed her gently. "Let me know if you need me."

There was a brief chorus of "Awwww!" from some of the female residents standing in their doorways and Jareth grinned as Sarah's cheeks turned slightly pink. His grin faded as his gaze fell upon the Fae standing there, stunned. Jareth looked him up and down once more, then rolled his eyes. "Come," he commanded. Then he turned on his heel and glided down the stairs.

The Fae bowed his head in defeat and followed close on Jareth's heels.

Once they were gone, Sarah looked around the hallway, chuckling. "Now, really. Will someone tell me what all happened here?"

_Author's Note Part II: For years I have had the image of this poor, misguided, Fae, standing there drenched and trying to stand up to Jareth who has his best Haughty Sneer on. YEARS. It amused me to no end. I hope it amused you, too, at least a little. Coming soon (though probably not soon enough for most of you loyal and long-time readers): Jareth meets the parents and Sarah meets the High Court. As the kids say, ftw._


	40. Consequences

_Author's Note, 9 Apr. 2013: Gotta take care of a little business before we can continue with the fluffy stuff. Thanks for all your support! It is good to be back in the swing of things._

_**Chapter Forty: Consequences**_

Jareth appeared in his study with the minor Fae in tow. He sat at his desk, leaned back in his chair, and pressed his fingertips together. The Fae was truly a mess. However, much as he wanted to just toss the fool into an oubliette and be done with it, he needed answers. He also did not think Sarah would appreciate the justice behind dangling him over the Bog until he talked. "Sit," he barked.

The Fae cleared his throat. "As much as I would like to obey, I cannot." Jareth's arched eyebrow hastened him to add, "Er, my Lord. Your Highness. Your Majesty." He cleared his throat again, awkardly.

Jareth snorted, but his eyebrow lowered minutely and he folded his hands in his lap. "And why not?"

"Whatever substance was poured on my seems to be hardening. And I would not wish to ruin your chair with my... situation."

The memory of the cause of this particular predicament made Jareth smile, which appeared to intimidate the Fae all the more. _Excellent_. "A chair is easily replaced. Now _sit_." When it became clear he intended to gingerly balance on the edge of the seat, Jareth rolled his eyes and, with the barest twitch of his fingers, he chair leapt forward to properly ensconce the Fae. "Very good. Now then, what is your name?"

"Kevein, your Majesty."

"Tell me, Kevein, is it correct to assume your venturing Aboveground, violating not only the edict of their Majesties, but also my privacy, her privacy, and nearly endangering the well-being of several young Mortals due to your compete and utter ignorance in regards to their customs was not an idea of your own creation?"

"Yes, your Majesty." He paused. "Er, except for that last part. Maybe." He paused again, feeling as though he was melting under Jareth's stare. "I may have overreacted toward the end there."

"_May?_" Jareth's eyebrow arched once more. "These Morals may have been blissfully unaware of what you were doing, but I was not. Do you think I would not recognize the beginnings of a battle spell? One generally meant to counter a deadly attack?"

"Well..."

"Has Fae nature changed so drastically that mere water holds life threatening properties?"

Kevein looked properly chagrined and more than a little panic was creeping into his features. No, your Majesty. I simply meant that that was not part of my orders."

"Ah. And what _were_ your orders?"

"Reconnaissance. I was sent to gather information."

The pause in his explanation, though brief, wore at Jareth's patience. "Oh?"

"On the girl." He saw the muscle in Jareth's jaw twitch. "I mean on the lady. Your lady. Her ladyship."

"Get on with it."

"To find out who she is, where she comes from, what about her is it that draws your interest and regard..." He trailed off, aware that none of this was being taken very well.

"And what did you discover?"

"Well, I know I should not like to be on the receiving end of her anger again."

Jareth smirked. "Wise though that sentiment may be, flattery earns you no sympathy. What will you be reporting to your master?"

"What would you like me to report?" Jareth's narrowing eyes told him he should probably stop trying to win him over. "Er, I know her name is Wills. I learned nothing of her background, only that she seems to have the loyalty of all the Mortals who surround her in that place. She is perhaps not without kindness, or mercy. She speaks and acts as one with status, so that would imply she is of great breeding. Yet she resides in that place that exhibits no luxury, little comfort, and complete utilitarianism. Hardly a palace as fitting one of station high enough to be courted by anyone of rank. And..." he stalled.

"_And?_"

"And you seem to be willing to do her bidding." There was no reaction to that. "Er, when it suits you?"

"I don't suppose you will tell me who it is that you serve?"

Kevein faltered. "Ah..."

"I thought as much." Jareth conjured up a crystal and said to it, "There has been an incident." Then, with a snap of his fingers, it disappeared. He stood, clasping his hands behind his back, and wandered to the window. He regarded the view of his kingdom, of the Labyrinth. He had known it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. The Fae were naturally curious and though his courtship was clearly evident to the entire Immortal Realm, all details were being kept very carefully hidden. Thankfully, this particular situation was easily contained and easily dealt with. Whoever was behind this sent an inexperienced and fairly incompetent servant to do his bidding. But what if it had been someone more well-versed in subterfuge? Or, perhaps worse, what if he and Sarah had not arrived when they did and the inexperience and incompetence evident had led to great disaster?

_I must speak to Their Majesties about having her presented_. He rolled his eyes again. _Pomp and circumstance with no purpose other than to satisfy those who are not remotely involved._

"True." There was amusement in Titania's voice. "Nevertheless, it is necessary."

Jareth knew without turning around that the High King and Queen had appeared, she sitting at his desk and he standing at her shoulder. _I do wish you would not do that_, he thought, though without resentment.

_I know_, came the reply,_ but at times it is necessary as well._

"We expect a certain disregard of formality from the King of the Goblins, but you have not been gifted with that luxury and will stand in the presence of Our Queen." Oberon's voice held no amusuement.

Jareth did turn around at that. He could tell Kevein was truly attempting to stand, but the glue had finally set and he had been rendered completely immobile. The panic was evident in his eyes as they flicked back and forth between the other three people in the room. "Should I assist him, Your Majesty?"

"Is that pity for the poor creature that We hear in your voice, Jareth?" Titania looked over her shoulder at him, eyes twinkling.

"Perhaps," he shrugged, before grinning wickedly. "Though it does not completely motivate my offer."

"No? Then by all means." She gestured toward the Fae whose desperation was growing increasingly evident.

Jareth looked at Kevein, then swept his hand around in a movement akin to beckoning him forward. Kevein immediately stood ramrod straight, and every piece of clothing that had bent when he was seated cracked wide open. He had the grace to look mortified.

"Oh. I see. On second thought, Oberon, perhaps I will return home while you deal with..." she gestured again, "this one. I am not keen to witness more of his embarrassment," she paused, considering. "At least, not at this time."

"As you wish, my queen."

"And, Jareth. We shall speak of that other thing later. Perhaps when she visits next?"

"Your Majesty." He bowed his head toward her, not breaking eye contact. _Troublemaker_, he heard her say as she vanished.

Oberon took her place in Jareth's chair. "Explain."

"Well -" Kevein began.

"Not you. The Goblin King."

Stifling another chuckle, Jareth summarised all that transpired to bring them to this moment.

Oberon eyed Kevein thoughtfully before pressing his fingertips against Jareth's desk and rising. He leaned forward ever so slightly, giving the appearance of looming over the nervous Fae. "Your error in judgement, though perhaps We will concede it being the error of the one you serve, was in acting as though there would be no consequence."

"I was only supposed to garner information, Your Majesty. The fault of the rest lies with me."

"It is true merely _spying_ would be no great cause for punishment under normal circumstances, even factoring in going Aboveground. However, We happen to _like_ her. She is special, particularly in Her Majesty's estimation. And, quite frankly, We are inclined to agree." Oberon straightened and pointed directly at Kevein. "You will take _that_ piece of information back to your master after which he will be your master no more. You will then report to Our palace where your fate will be decided."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Kevein tried to lower his head. "But, do you not wish to know who my master, er _former_ master is?"

"If you believe We do not already know, that is more your folly. Now go." He snapped is fingers and Kevein disappeared. Oberon turned to Jareth, who leaned against the window with his arms crossed. "Need you be reminded to not seek vengeance?"

"Not that your asking is a reminder."

Oberon smiled. "No, of course not."

"Curiosity is what it is. I cannot keep her hidden forever, much as I would prefer to."

"And would you like to be party to whatever further punishment is in store for young Kevein?"

"Something tells me having to appear as he did in front of Yourselves, then run back to Gestrel after having been caught and _still_ appear as he did is punishment enough."

"First pity, now compassion. Growing soft?"

Jareth snorted. "Her opinion matters and I sense she would not approve of my involvement in anything further so long as he knows to keep his distance." He chuckled openly. "And I believe she incited enough terror in him that he would never dare do anything but."

"Indeed?"

"If only you had seen it." He launched into a more detailed telling of what went on, as well as summarizing what he overheard Sarah's residents tell her they had done.

"Mortals are not as meek as they once were," Oberon said once they had finished laughing at Kevein's expense.

"No. Not all, in any case. And I hope it is to their betterment."

"True."


	41. Zounderkite

_Author's Note, 13 May 2013: The title of this chapter refers to our poor Kevein from the previous chapters. It has little to do with this chapter, but I really wanted to use the word and could not work it into the conversations. So there._

_**Chapter Forty-One: Zounderkite**_

"Wills, the whole point of this is to get rid of books you will never need again." Agnes was watching Sarah sort her textbooks into 'keep' and 'resell' piles. 'Resell' was currently quite outnumbered. "And maybe get enough fast cash for a new pair of shoes or something."

"But I might need them. You never know."

"In what possible scenario could you ever need to refer to," she reached over to grab a random book, "_The Publication Manual of the American Psychological Association_?"

Sarah looked up from the shelf she was clearing and blinked several times. "Oh. Well..." There was a long pause. "Alright, you've got me on that one. I'm not even sure why I even have a copy of that."

"Hah." Agnes tossed the book onto the 'resell' pile.

"But I'm keeping the rest of them."

"Oh for -" she sighed. "At least explain why?"

"Sentimental value."

"Wills. They're textbooks."

"But their content spans my entire college career."

There was a long pause, followed by yet another sigh. "I wash my hands of you and your folly. Don't ask me for help when you have to haul these downstairs."

"That's what freshmen are for." Sarah pulled the last stack of books off her shelf to give each title due consideration. "Speaking of which, put together a couple of boxes for me?"

Agnes moved to the chair and started picking at the roll of tape to find the start. "Won't all the residents be long gone by the time we RA's move out?"

"Ah ha." Sarah waved one finger. "I have a cunning plan. My dad is driving up tomorrow with the pick-up to get all the major stuff. And since they all owe me for hiding The Incident from the custodial staff here _and_ taking care of the worst of the clean-up, they will carry every box I own to load up."

Agnes chuckled at that. "If they only knew how conniving you are. How did you manage to get all the water and glitter and glue out of the carpet? Everyone went to bed thinking there would be hell to pay in the morning. But the next morning, all evidence had vanished."

Sarah wiggled her eyebrows and leaned in conspiratorially "Magic," she whispered.

"Really," Agnes threw her friend a flat look. "You're not going to tell me?"

"Some secrets are best kept forever." At Agnes' dubious look, Sarah shrugged. "Plausible deniability. Suffice it to say the Powers that Be would likely not approve my methods."

"Right." Agnes shook her head and returned to picking at the tape. "Only you would involve yourself in a situation that would get you expelled right before graduation, Wills. Only you."

Not that she could ever admit it to anyone, but Sarah's answer was not untrue. When she had come back to her room, exhausted after cleaning, Jareth was waiting in owl-form outside her window. After very little convincing, she acknowledged his plan would be best. He then cast a spell ensuring all the residents would remain asleep while he walked the halls with her. She had lived there long enough to be able to tell him which stains were new and which would draw suspicion if missing.

When she brought up the fact that he was performing a rather large bit of magic Aboveground, he assured her it was not unsanctioned by Their Majesties. In addition, he was making it as complicated a spell as he could come up with, while including a myriad of unnecessary but flashy protections on the entire building. As none of this would be going unnoticed by those dwelling Underground, all was done as a subtle reminder to other Fae who might also consider interfering directly in Sarah's life that she was not under the protection of some half-wit Fae with few skills to his name.

Grinning, she commented that 'subtle' was not the appropriate word to describe it but said not a word else on the subject save to thank him for his assistance when he was finished. After he left, she spent a sleepless hour in bed with a mug of cocoa and a handful of marshmallows wondering when she came to be so casual at the idea of him casting manipulative spells upon her residents and what she should make of all that.

"So."

The weight Agnes put behind the monosyllable brought Sarah out of her reverie. She looked at her friend, eyebrow raised. "So..."

"_I_ know you plan on running off into the sunset with Jareth eventually. Figuratively speaking, of course."

"Right," Sarah grinned. "Of course."

"What have you told the fam?"

"Actually, I had a long chat with Alison about it just after things started to get serious."

Agnes snorted. "The moment it started it was getting serious, Wills. But continue."

"When I was done talking, there was this long pause. Finally, she said that if it was anyone else, she would be concerned about the alacrity with which everything was happening -"

"She actually said 'alacrity', didn't she."

"Yup. But then she said that because it was me, and I have always been more fanciful than other people, she couldn't say she was all that surprised. Then she said to not tell Dad yet. That she would break the news that I have a serious beau to him gently so he can get used to the idea and we'll all have dinner after Graduation."

"Fanciful? Beau? Your step-mother, seriously."

"I know. Kills me. The kicker was when she admitted being extra reassured by the fact that he is not in a band, has a steady job, and makes a decent living."

"Now _that_ sounds like the Alison we all know and love."

"Yup."

They were quiet for a bit, the silence interrupted by the sound of tape being applied to cardboard. Then Agnes began to chuckle.

"Yes?"

"I'm sure in most cases like this, when the 'serious beau' meets the parents for the first time, it would be customary to think, 'poor Jareth'. But having met the man and all, I can only think, 'your poor dad'." She laughed outright at that, falling over onto the floor behind the stack of assembled boxes.

Sarah giggled as well, then grabbed a box and started to fill it.

* * *

"Can I drag you away for a quick lunch?" Lewis Williams looked at his daughter across the truck bed. "My treat."

"Absolutely, Dad. Let me run upstairs and grab my coat."

"Great. I just need to put a tarp over these boxes then we can go."

Sarah grinned. Regardless of the fact that no rain was on the forecast for several days between her dorm and her family's home, her father insisted on taking no chances with any of his daughter's 'treasures'. The way their conversation had gone all day it was as though he was determined to put her back in the 'little princess' box. Curiously, Alison called her early that morning to forewarn her of this possibility. According to her step-mother, Sarah's father was having a difficult time 'coping with it all'.

The pair soon found themselves at a small deli in town. They ordered sandwiches and sat at a small table by the window. After a few minutes of chatting, Lewis said, "Alison tells me you have a new boyfriend."

It was all Sarah could do to not laugh outright at the poor attempt for casual. "I was wondering if you were going to bring him up."

His brow furrowed, slightly. "Hm. So it's true, then?"

Sarah did giggle at that. "Yes, Dad. I have a boyfriend, and his name is Jareth. Jareth... King." She continued to be amused by his choice in last name, though admittedly it truly was the perfect option.

"Hm. Is he, er, in your grade?"

_Grade? What, am I back in high school now?_ "No, Dad, he isn't in college."

"Hm. So he's older then?"

_Now there's the understatement of the century. _"Yes."

"By...?"

"Oh, several years." _Centuries, even._

"Hm. And what does he do?"

"He's a CEO at a bank or financial institution of some sort. Investments. Managing the little people. Overseas. It's all... Complicated." She and Jareth had a few brief conversations about how to explain his career to her friends and family here Aboveground, but she was realizing they would have to clear up the finer details here soon.

"Hm."

There was silence then as their sandwiches arrived. Lewis poked at his, mulling things over. Sarah refused to be uncomfortable, rearranged the lettuce, and dug right in.

Finally, Lewis picked up his sandwich and looked at her. "Jareth King, eh?"

The corner of Sarah's mouth twitched. "Mmhmm."

"I suppose that is acceptable for my princess."

At that, she burst out laughing. "Oh, _Dad_."

* * *

During the rest of their lunch, Sarah filled in her father on some of the details of Jareth's courtship. Not nearly as detailed as she had told Alison, for there are some things one simply cannot share with one's father. However, she did her best to paint a picture of Jareth her father would be able to accept and handle. Eventually, though in some ways not soon enough for Sarah, it was time for her to get back to campus and Lewis to get on the road.

He pulled into the parking lot closest to her dorm, putting the car into park and tapping the steering wheel a few times. "Sarah," concern was thinly veiled in his voice.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Jareth isn't like that other boy at all, is he? The last one?"

Sarah blinked at him. "Sammuel?" She had not thought about him in quite some time to the point that her relationship with him seemed like it happened in a different lifetime. She was more than a little bewildered that her father would bring him up. "No. No, not at all. Why would you think that? Why even bring it up?"

"You never seemed happy when you were together. And that aside, I never liked the boy. I just don't want you to end up in another relationship with someone who makes you feel less than you are."

It was awkward, and he was not really being entirely clear, but it was more touchy-feely than her father had been in years. "Don't worry, Dad," she said gently. "Jareth and Sammuel are nothing alike. Worlds apart, even. You'll see, when you meet him."

"Oh? And when will that be?"

"Well, he'll be at my Graduation. And then we are all going to dinner after."

"We are?"

"Didn't Alison tell you? She's the one making the reservations."

"No. She didn't mention anything about it."

Sarah grinned. "She did say she was trying to get you accustomed to the idea slowly." She laughed at the perplexed look on his face. "I gotta go, Dad. Thanks for coming to get all my stuff." She leaned across the seats and kissed him on the cheek. "Safe drive home and I'll see you in a week or so."

"Ok, sweetheart. Be good."

"Sure thing, Dad." Sarah hopped out of the truck and waved as her father pulled out of the parking lot. When he drove around the corner, she turned and jogged into her dorm.


End file.
